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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750571">far from the kingdom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgohotspot/pseuds/virgohotspot'>virgohotspot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Bellamy's not a dad but he totally is a dad, Canon!Bellamy loves Clarke, Clarke's arranged marriage is to Roan lol but for like five seconds, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kid Fic, Mom!Clarke, No Priamfaya, Post-Season/Series 03, Sharing a Bed, best friends to enemies to lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:40:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgohotspot/pseuds/virgohotspot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy never expected Clarke to come back. Her arranged marriage to Roan was bounded by the regulations of the coalition, and if that wasn't enough, their child together was sure to keep her in Ice Nation. However, when Roan passes, Clarke's able to return back to Arkadia. And now, Bellamy must learn to live with the woman who abandoned him and her daughter who hates him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>253</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>far from the kingdom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All the events of season 3 transpired, EXCEPT for Priamfaya. This story takes place well after the events of season 3. I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The shift in the trees across the gate’s plain is minor, but enough to alert Bellamy, straightening from his slumped position on the post to peer closer at the movement in the forest. He alarms Abby, who otherwise was sitting idly, but he doesn’t even cast a glance at her as she stands to her feet, following his gaze to the ruffle of trees, and faraway murmurs. Bellamy strains his ear to hear a little better, the crunching of leaves and bustling voices carrying through the air. It’s not long after that Kane emerges from the blur of the trees, Bellamy squinting to make out his facial expression.</p><p> </p><p><em>Kane’s pokerface needs work</em>, Bellamy observes as the man saunters towards the gate. He almost wishes he agreed to lead the team and head off with them those couple of days ago, so he could have skipped the poor attempt at a skit that Kane is attempting to perform, just to keep Bellamy level-headed, as if he’s going to burst at the seams when the rest of them come into view. The look of reservation fades, however, when Kane’s eyes rest on Abby. Bellamy’s eyes narrow at him as Kane glances over his shoulder, before facing forward with an eager grin.</p><p> </p><p>Less than a second later, Abby’s sprinting through the grass, just as the rest of the team emerges from the forest. Bellamy plants himself at the post, tipping his head upwards to the guard on the watch tower and signaling for the opening of the gate. He sighs, eyes closed as he hears the shuffling of the gate being opened. He’s going to have to look eventually, and look composed while he does it. Bellamy waits until the creaks of the gate come to a stop, holding his eyes closed for a moment longer good measure, before his gaze shifts back forward.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy opens his eyes, and Clarke is the first thing he sees.</p><p> </p><p>Trees blur into the background, the people surrounding her fade into nothingness. Her smile, small, and relieved and obviously forced, are what his eyes land on. Clarke switches her gaze between two sides, and it’s not until everyone and everything else comes back into focus that Bellamy registers his surroundings. It’s his job to be alert, and yet here Clarke is, already stealing his attention. And she’s barely been back for five seconds.</p><p> </p><p>The team surrounding her only makes her stand out in emphasis, aside from the fact it looks like she’s leading them. Kane’s on one side of her, with his hand on the small of her back, as if Clarke ever needs any guidance – yet his eyes are on Abby, warm and excited for the mother. Abby, on the other hand, is crowding around Clarke, with frantic gestures indicating something she must think is important and mouth moving a mile a minute, leaving her daughter haphazardly stepping around her in order to etch further. Bellamy’s less focused on Abby, doesn’t care to make out what she’s attempting to say to her daughter. If Clarke’s not interested, he sure isn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s focus, his only primal intention is to keep his eyes locked on Clarke, but only for a moment. The image of her is already ingrained into his brain. Her porcelain skin is unscathed, almost glowing as comes into focus. Her strides are just as confident, walking with a purpose and a mission, despite her mother’s attempts to stall her with useless questioning. Her hair is much longer, thicker, reaching just past her chest. It no longer has that matted, thinning appearance, now full and wavy, eerily similar to their days at the Dropship. He wishes he could relish in the memory even for just a second longer, before his gaze drops to the bundle in her arms.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a white blanket, plain and clean and oddly unsettling the longer Bellamy stares at it. Clarke holds the blanket close to her, glancing down every once in a while, her forced smile replaced with a genuine shimmer in her eyes before she looks back up. There’s movement from underneath the blanket, and he already knows what’s inside, but that knowledge doesn’t hinder his quickening heartbeat. His jaw tightens, as a pale, little arm stretches out, following a head with tuffs of blonde hair.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s daughter looks just like her, Bellamy imagined she would. The infant stretches up into her mother’s arms, only a couple of months old, but increasingly curious at her new surroundings. Bellamy watches Clarke duck her head once more, whispering reassurances to the child as Abby coos at her granddaughter. He can only look on, watch as the infant stares blankly at Abby, unphased by all of the commotion. His heart goes from a rapid, inhumane pace to dropping to the pit of his stomach when the infant etches closer, content with being carried in her mother’s arms as Clarke meets Bellamy’s gaze.</p><p> </p><p>They’re a lot closer than Bellamy realized. So much so, that if he were paying attention, he could hear what Abby’s been chattering on about, a couple feet ago. But seeing Clarke standing so close to him, a mere six feet away now, takes his breath away. Her eyes lock with his, blatantly ignoring her mother, expecting a greeting. A lump forms in Bellamy’s throat just as he wretches his gaze away.</p><p> </p><p>“Are we all here?” Bellamy’s voice booms over the team of guardsmen who murmur in agreeance. All of them look to be in one peace, no scratches or bruises or missing limbs. They’re all accounted for, Bellamy does a quick sweep to count. Then, his gaze settles back on Clarke, her, along with Abby and Kane having stopped in their tracks at the entrance of the gate beside him. He bows his head to her and the infant, “Clarke. Congratulations.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a flash of hurt in her eyes, one that Bellamy registers and feels guilty for before it morphs into something stoic, almost like Clarke’s default. She nods to him, accepting his congratulations, over half a year after her child’s birth, before turning back to her mother, still mid-chatter.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom,” Clarke cautions, eyebrows raised in irritation. “Can I walk through the gate first? Mia’s fine, she hasn’t fussed all the way here.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glances down at the infant, Mia. He hadn’t known her name before. He’d asked Kane not to tell him. Mia stares back at him like she knows this, like she’s offended by it, cold and distant, her nose scrunched up as if she’s already decided that she doesn’t like him. He doesn’t blame her. He wasn’t the biggest fan of her father, after all.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s crucial we bring her in for a checkup, for you, too,” Abby sighs, casting her smile down towards her granddaughter. She reaches out to lightly brush her hand against her cheek, to which Mia whines and leans into her mother’s hold.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s cheeks flush red with embarrassment. “She’s tired.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was a long trip. Let’s get you inside.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hold,” a voice whisks through the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy halts, recognizing the tone before the person it belongs to even manages to worm through the crowd. Instinctively, he steps towards Clarke, ignoring how her eyes scan over him, already calculating a response to calm him. She knew how he’d react to this, and the lack of heads up is a detriment to them both. However, Clarke simply stands in front of him, ignoring the pleas in his eyes as Echo stands before them, with a crown perched on her head and two Ice Nation warriors on either side of her.</p><p> </p><p>“Queen Echo,” Clarke addresses her carefully.</p><p> </p><p>“Queen?” Bellamy baffles, to which Echo raises an eyebrow at him. He ignores her, angling his body towards Clarke to lean in and whisper. “This cannot be who you appointed to replace you.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sends him daggers, before shifting her gaze back to Echo, Queen Echo, with a relaxed expression. Bellamy could mistake them for colleagues, as if Clarke hadn’t always been Echo’s superior – even when legally, that wasn’t the case. Bellamy screws his lips shut at Clarke’s discretion, but doesn’t mask the glare he sends Echo’s way. As usual, Echo does not appear to care, focusing her attention back on Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to ensure that our guidelines are clear,” Echo explains sharply.</p><p> </p><p>“Good, because I want to make sure you follow them,” Clarke shifts Mia around in her arms easily, not at all fearful of the woman in front of her, now proclaimed a queen.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glances down at Clarke’s daughter. Mia’s eyes wander over Echo, familiar with her, but ultimately uninterested. She sinks back into her mother’s grasp, and blinks up at Bellamy. He seems to stare at her for a little longer than she likes, because her face scrunches up like she wants to start wailing because of it. He tears his gaze away, staring back at Echo, who tilts her head at Clarke and smirks.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m loyal to my clan, and Roan will always be a part of that,” Echo insists, tipping her head towards Mia. “On his deathbed, he made me vow her safety.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mia will be safe here,” Clarke clarifies.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t plan to take her from this life. Unless, you prove to me that she belongs in Ice Nation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Roan agreed that it would be best she would live here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you didn’t wish to be Queen without him as King.”</p><p> </p><p>“It got you here, didn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>Echo’s eyes narrow at her, as if she’s been mocked. Bellamy’s grip tightens on the shotgun in his arms, glaring at her. Clarke remains firm, cradling Mia close to her as she stares down Echo, unphased by her new rank.</p><p> </p><p>“I appointed you Queen, as my replacement, because Roan assured me you would uphold the agreements of the coalition,” Clarke continues, swift and precise, as if she’s rehearsed it. “Without a Commander, the coalition is all that’s guaranteeing us peace. And that’s what Roan wanted for our daughter.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Our daughter</em>, Roan and Clarke’s daughter, Mia. It takes every bit of Bellamy not to flinch at the reminder. Out of his peripheral, Bellamy notes Kane staring him down, expecting a more exaggerated reaction. Kane’s witnessed the brunt of them in these past couple of years. But Bellamy will be damned if he allows Clarke to witness his vulnerability, his distaste towards the arranged marriage that tore her from Arkadia, all that while ago. She’s moved on, made peace with her new role on Earth. And she should think that he has, too.</p><p> </p><p>It takes all of Bellamy’s strength to focus back on Echo. He hates seeing the crown on her head, hates more that Clarke placed it there herself. After all she did, basically demolishing this coalition in the first place, forcing them to rebuild it after the Commander was dead, after another Ice Nation warrior slaughtered all the prospecting nightbloods before dying herself in the City of Light. And then, with no nightbloods old enough to rule, and no Commander in sight, causing them to renegotiate guidelines for the coalition in an attempt to keep the peace. He blames Echo for all of it, almost as much as he resents Clarke for going along with it – even volunteering when the arranged marriages intermingled between clans were decided upon.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy pushes the memory to the back of his mind. He’d done a good job over the past couple of months not thinking about it, focusing on his work or shoving his dick in some girl that wanted him so the thought had no time to cross his mind. He straightens, keeps his eyes level with the new Queen of Ice Nation.</p><p> </p><p>“And that’s what I intend to uphold,” Echo agrees with a firm nod. “As long as you do not bring my authority as Queen into question, we will keep peace between the clans. As Roan wished.” She moves to step forward, just as Bellamy interjects himself in the middle of them. Echo smirks at him, unphased by his glowering before glancing over his shoulder at Clarke. “But make no mistake, Clarke. You, are Ice Nation no more. Mia, will always have ice running through her veins, and that is why this coalition stands.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke purses her lips, casting a quick glance down at Mia. Bellamy follows her gaze, mimicking her movements as her head lifts back up to look at Echo. She nods, firm and understanding. Echo locks eyes with her, an unspoken agreement between the two. Bellamy watches Clarke expectantly, analyzes the way her shoulders tense and chest heaves up and down unsteadily. He glares back at Echo, who now appears satisfied, her lips curling into a triumphant smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Echo steps back into place with her warriors as Bellamy stares her down, expression stoic but eyes full of hatred. Her face is emotionless, as per usual, as she turns and stalks away, again pushing through his guardsmen as opposed to walking around them. Her warriors follow, the loud metals of their garments clashing together as they stride back into the forest. Bellamy ensures they disappear into the trees, headed back to their own territory, before he turns to Kane.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously? Echo as the Queen of Ice Nation? How could you agree to this?” Bellamy hisses, eyes flashing with anger. “She’ll kill us all in a heartbeat if it meant her clan could gain power.”</p><p> </p><p>“This wasn’t my decision,” Kane cautions Bellamy, eyebrows raised in order to warn him of who he’s talking about.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy doesn’t care. He spins around, coming face-to-face with Clarke, who’s already prepared for a rebuttal. She glances over him easily, bouncing Mia in her arms, like this debate is just another part of her busy schedule. Bellamy’s fuming, and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s infuriated or if it’s because he feels like he’s being mocked, belittled, all over again. His decisions, his input, isn’t as valuable as Clarke’s, once again.</p><p> </p><p>“Echo was loyal to Roan,” Clarke explains calmly, “She’ll be loyal to us, because of Mia.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t trust her,” Bellamy shakes his head, glancing back to glare at the trees.</p><p> </p><p>“I trust Roan.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s head snaps back to her, the words sinking into his ears like rocks. Clarke realizes those were the wrong words to use, despite no matter how strongly she feels its true. She swallows, already concocting another slew of reassurances to throw in his direction, to appease him. She doesn’t come up with them fast enough, the frustration festering in Bellamy’s body increasing with each second that passes.</p><p> </p><p>Mia gurgles from Clarke’s arms, stealing her attention. She looks regretful, switching her attention, but Mia’s adamant, another whine escaping from her lips. Clarke glances down at her, tending to her with quiet coos and the brush of her finger against her soft cheek. Abby steps forward to help, leaning over Clarke’s shoulder to assist with Mia. He finds this side of Clarke does more to appease him than any words that were to emerge from her mouth; all the intimate, soft actions of her, something he used to only witness in their private moments together, out in the open. At least she has that now, no longer needing to be shielding behind the title of Wanheda, ruthless and unmerciful as she cradles her child.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy suddenly feels out of place, his irritation subsiding into softness for the interaction occurring in front of him, before it morphs into awkwardness. Suddenly, the softness, the glow of Clarke that showcased genuine smiles and short bursts of laughter, something that Bellamy shouldn’t have access to. He takes a step back, body stumbling into Kane as he does so.</p><p> </p><p>Kane clasps his hand over his shoulder as Bellamy turns to face him. He can feel his eyes becoming watery, already overwhelmed with more of Clarke in these past couple of minutes than he’s had of her in years. Kane’s always giving him these pitiful looks, and it just irritates Bellamy to another degree. He yanks his shoulder out of his grasp and charges past the gate, back into the greyness of Arkadia, shouting for his team to follow for protocol checks.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy only turns back once, under the guise of doing a head count for his team, despite the one he conducted just a couple of moments ago. He counts their heads quickly, accounting for everyone once more as they stomp past him into the walls of Arkadia. As the last one skips past him, Bellamy now has a clear vision of Clarke, staring after him. His eyes lock with hers, recognizing the silent plea and openness she craves, something he once clung onto so desperately. It makes his chest burn, and his jaw tighten. Clarke makes a move to step towards him, the bundle still cradled in her arms as he swivels on his feet and follows his guardsmen back into Arkadia.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It takes two days after Clarke’s return for the councilmen to call a conference. And Clarke ensures that her request is heard for Bellamy to be present.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s not a councilman. In fact, he has never wanted to be a part of the council, despite Kane’s pleas for his leadership and guidance. Especially after Clarke left, when he begged Bellamy to take her place. Bellamy scoffed outright at the idea, he didn’t have her wisdom, her perception, nor her head-first thinking. All of the councilmen were created in her image; had a similar way of thinking, one that Bellamy often did not agree with. If the months leading up to Kane’s inquiry told him anything, it was that Bellamy would not be a likeminded replacement for Clarke Griffin.</p><p> </p><p>Nonetheless, as the lead of the guardsmen, sometimes it’s crucial that Bellamy sits in on the councilmen’s conferences. Whenever they’re discussing trade runs or potential conferences in other territories, Bellamy is there, reciting a course of action and enlisting a team to take. The meetings are always nauseatingly long, but he feels fulfilled being kept up to speed, something that just a couple of years, was an anomaly for a simple janitor.</p><p> </p><p>However, Bellamy did not appreciate being summoned by Clarke himself to attend a conference he surely was not needed for. Kane forced him to attend anyways, threatening a month long night shift. So, there he sat, directly across from Clarke Griffin, being introduced by the Chancellor, Marcus Kane, just after he shot Bellamy a warning look to behave.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone welcomed Clarke warmly, some even whispering congratulations about her daughter, who sat promptly in her mother’s lap, quietly observing. Bellamy grit his teeth together, averting his gaze from the child. This was no place for an infant, and maybe he was just being protective because he basically shielded Octavia from the outside world for sixteen years, but the tightness in his chest churned.</p><p> </p><p>“I called this meeting to assure everyone about the alliance between Ice Nation and Arkadia,” Clarke explains, pointedly staring at Bellamy. He could only see her out of his peripheral vision, but it was now clear why she requested for him to be present. “I understand some of you have concerns.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, of course we do,” a fellow councilmen pipes up. Bellamy turns his head to gaze at the man he’s long forgotten the name of, vaguely remembering he’s in charge of the farming and agriculture. “They’ve abided by our terms under the premise of you being Roan’s wife and living in Ice Nation with him. That’s no longer the case.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke swallows thickly, glancing at her mother, sitting perched beside her. Abby nods, allowing Clarke to hand Mia over to her. Mia makes a fuss, but quiets after a reassuring look from her mother as she stands to her feet. Bellamy watches the interaction unfold, a little relieved Mia seems to be disgruntled by everybody, not just him. However, once his gaze travels back to Clarke, he wonders to himself why that really matters at all.</p><p> </p><p>“Councilmen Henry,” Clarke addresses him – <em>damn, that’s his name</em>, and Clarke’s only been back for forty eight hours and remembers it better than him – politely and poised. “King Roan’s death was the result of an untreatable infection. Natural cases. I did not jeopardize the agreement, in fact I strengthened it as Queen Echo and I re-negotiated my late husband and I’s previous terms–”</p><p> </p><p>Hearing Clarke address Roan as her husband is something Bellamy don’t think he’ll ever get used to, even after she has become a widow. It still makes his stomach churn, bile rising up in his throat at the picture of Clarke and Roan, husband and wife. Their matrimony lasted two years, up until his untimely death, and Bellamy had to force himself not to think about it to prevent the wave of nausea that plagued him at the thought. Even now, it brings similar discomfort, as she stands before him, stoic and unfeeling – like she’s already moved on. It should be a relief, but instead it brings him back to her wedding day, to the similar expression she sported towards him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shakes his head, ridding himself of the memory and re-focusing on Clarke as she rambles on. She’s calculated, rehearsed, like it’s a question or a variation of one she expected to receive. Bellamy scans the table of councilmen, who watch her seemingly impressed with her explanation. Her mother looks on fondly, carefully cradling Mia who stares up at her mother in the same type of amazement. When his eyes land on Kane, he’s the only one with eyes not on Clarke. Unsurprising, seeing as his trust in her is unconditional.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Kane’s gaze is locked on Bellamy. His pointed gaze cautions Bellamy, warns him – begs him – to be compliant. Bellamy lifts his head towards Kane in acknowledgement, but his eyes flash with defiance as his lips tighten into a straight line. He glances back at Clarke, arms crossed over his chest as he slumps into his chair.</p><p> </p><p>“The new Queen and I have a firm alliance,” Clarke promises. “Probably more solid than the rest of the coalition’s alliances. There’s no risk to our peace with Mia and I leaving Ice Nation.”</p><p> </p><p>“How can you be sure?” Bellamy bellows, staring up at Clarke from his position. Clarke’s gaze lands on him, the surprise leaving her expression as quick as it appeared, subsiding into her default, expressionless state. Bellamy straightens in his chair. “Echo has shown time and time again that she can’t be trusted. If Mount Weather was any indication of that–”</p><p> </p><p>“I understand your concern,” Clarke says swiftly. He hates how cordial it comes out, like he’s faded into the likes of a council member in her eyes. “But that was years ago. Echo’s loyalties have shifted to the coalition, they align with Roan’s vision for peace.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ice Nation doesn’t understand peace!” Bellamy stands, chair skidding across the floor behind him, fingertips pressed against the wooden table as he leans over.</p><p> </p><p>Murmurs fill the tiny room, flooding through Bellamy’s ears but registering more as a ring as his gaze zeroes in on Clarke. He has no idea what the rest of the councilmen are talking about, could care less about the look of horror Kane is undoubtedly sending his way or Abby bouncing a whining Mia on her lap, now annoyed by his outburst at her mother. He spares a glance at her once, the infant staring up at him with hate she doesn’t understand in his eyes. Bellamy swallows, gaze shifting back to Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke tips her chin, lips pressed together tightly. If she notices his brief exchange with her daughter, she chooses not to acknowledge it, allowing her full attention to fall on Bellamy. She angles her body forward to face him head on, arms crossed across her chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I lived in Ice Nation territory for over two years. The progress that they’ve made is tremendous, I’ve witnessed it myself, and on meetings with the coalition members, I’ve informed them of it,” Clarke’s voice is firm, enunciating every word for the audience before them. Her eyes remain locked with Bellamy’s as he continues, “You were there for majority of those meetings, Bellamy. And I assume, as a council member, you’ve kept up to date on recent developments.”</p><p> </p><p>Another reason why Bellamy hates being a part of the councilmen; after every meeting with the coalition, there’s a conference between the council members of Arkadia, in order for them to be up to date on any developments or arising conflicts. And seeing as Bellamy consciously chose to no longer attend coalition meetings close to a year or so ago, updates on what was happening within the walls of Ice Nation was not something he wanted to know about; unless absolutely necessary.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glances at Kane, who eyes him skeptically. It’s another cautionary expression, warning Bellamy not to worsen the situation, not to make things more difficult than he already has. He huffs, fingertips turning white from how hard he’s pressing against the wooden table. A hushed silence falls over the conference room, all anticipating the next exchange of words between the two. Bellamy’s sure he’s put them all in an awkward position, but he’s never been one to raise his hand in class and speak politely. Back then, he would just shut up, keep his voice low to not disrupt the flow. And now, everything’s too screwed up for him to care.</p><p> </p><p>When his gaze lands back on Clarke, he can already tell what she’s going to say, her eyes glancing over him contemplatively, upper row of teeth grazing across her bottom lip. He works out an excuse in his head as she steals a glance at her daughter, before her gaze settles back on him.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I speak to you outside, Bellamy?” Clarke asks.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy clears his throat, “We can discuss whatever it is inside–”</p><p> </p><p>“Outside. Now.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s eyes follow Clarke as she marches out of the conference room, not awaiting any further protest. She doesn’t catch the look of pure annoyance crossing his features, but she probably feels his eyeroll burn holes into her back. The moment he heaves himself up from his leaned over position on the table, the murmurs begin to fill the room once more, speculating and gossiping all too much for a room of grown adults. Already irritated, and becoming increasingly so, Bellamy strides out of the room, not sparing a glance at one council member as he exits.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s already waiting for him when he opens the door, staring at him with her arms crossed across her chest and gaze firm. When he shuts the door behind him, her poised exterior falls, her shoulders slumping slightly and her expression morphing into a weaker look of irritation. Again, it reminds him of their days at the Dropship, her accusatory remarks and hotly glares more cute than anything.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy almost smiles. And then present Clarke falls back into his register, her dissatisfaction with his less than helpful input evident. His face hardens, remaining stoic and attempting to appear somewhat calm, like his heart rate isn’t accelerating because this is the first time he’s being alone with Clarke in two years.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke tips her chin upwards, “I knew you would have a problem with Echo taking over Roan’s reign–”</p><p> </p><p>“Then why’d you do it?” Bellamy deadpans, as if he’s almost uninterested. Clarke’s lips screw shut, only urging Bellamy onward. “It’s not like she’s proven to have the best track record.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got to know her over these past couple of years. She’s loyal.”</p><p> </p><p>“To who?”</p><p> </p><p>“To her people.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m pretty sure we don’t count as <em>her people</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did. Mia does.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s lips smack together abruptly, heart pounding so excruciatingly that he thinks it may just burst. Clarke only peers at him, level and composed and everything that just makes Bellamy want to scream. She’s always been more logical than he is, thinking with reason and strategy, ignoring any personal vendettas. Clarke’s ability to reserve herself, put aside her emotions to make decisions is something Bellamy used to envy.</p><p> </p><p>Even when Clarke talks about her own daughter – who’s practically joined to her at the hip, Bellamy notes – it’s all calculated, like she’s analyzed the situation extensively before she’s retelling it to him. Her perspective may have shifted because of motherhood, but her ability to decode people is still her strong suit. Like she already knew what Bellamy was thinking, already thought of it before he had the chance to, solved it on her own and then proceeding to convince him to be in agreeance. Whatever Bellamy can think of to call this a bad idea, Clarke’s thought of it first and has probably outsmarted any obstacle that has yet to cross his mind.</p><p> </p><p>He must have a look on his face, because Clarke’s features harden. Bellamy relaxes his face muscles in response, now aware of the twisted look he must be sending her way. Resuming his attempt at a stoic expression does no good either, Clarke’s already caught him.</p><p> </p><p>“God, Bellamy, I wouldn’t have elected Echo if she was going to destroy all the progress we made,” Clarke snaps, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t have any other choices?” Bellamy snarls, eyes narrowing. “Anyone other than Echo? Who almost <em>started </em>the war Ice Nation wanted.”</p><p> </p><p>“Roan assured me she was loyal. I’ve worked closely with her for <em>years</em>. Why can’t you trust me on this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Echo was your <em>only</em>option,” Bellamy accuses, ignoring the blatant mention of trust; something so sacred and fragile between the two. “You knew Ice Nation wouldn’t just follow you.”</p><p> </p><p>“They would have. I was their Queen. That was the whole purpose of the arranged marriages, Bellamy, to forge connections between the coalition. It <em>worked</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Fume could probably exude out of Bellamy’s ears if he tried. “I don’t need to hear about the logistics of the arranged marriages, Clarke! I got a pretty good overview when you ran off to marry Roan.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shakes her head, a bemused scoff leaving her lips. “Ran off? Is that what you’re calling it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m saying, I don’t need the history lesson,” Bellamy seethes. He keeps his eyes level with her, makes sure she knows. “I remember.”</p><p> </p><p>They both remember. Clarke’s lips close shut, and Bellamy feels himself heaving now, just staring at her. She’s probably formulating a response to him in her head, he can see the way her wheels are turning, attempting to calculate the perfect response. Bellamy refuses to give her any time for it, won’t allow any more commentary on that time.</p><p> </p><p>“Echo’s loyal until she doesn’t want to be,” Bellamy keeps his voice level, calm, like Clarke would. “You made the wrong choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“The other choice was that I stay in Ice Nation and rule,” Clarke reveals, breath hitching just the slightest. She stares right at him when she says, “Would you rather I have stayed?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke tilts her head up to him, her glossy eyes in full view for him. She’s too humble to accuse him of being wrong about that statement, and too upset to even mutter something back in reply. She just stares at him, and Bellamy allows himself to gaze back at her. He wonders how even now, after all this time has passed, the only thing he wants to do is envelop her in a hug, hold her tight in an embrace despite every ounce of him wanting to scream and yell and accuse her of so much more than he already has.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a part of him feels <em>horrible</em>. That somehow, this is all his fault, to have allowed her to get where she is. He didn’t do enough to keep her from becoming this person, and now it’s too late for him to do anything. And even though he resents her for it, he hates himself ten million times more. That hate always festers, turns into needing someone to blame, and since Clarke’s nearby, as physically now as she was emotionally, those only one person to inflict that upon. He’ll hate himself more for it in a while.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s eyes soften as a tear appears on the cusp of her eyelid. But he can’t step forward, paralyzed in this position, glaring down at her because what she’s doing is just a fraction of what he underwent. Clarke lets out a low, shaky breath, gulping down hard and burning her gaze back at Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not what I meant,” Bellamy insists, although the timid tone of his voice gives him away.</p><p> </p><p>If Clarke believes him, truly understands that’s not what he was implying, she does nothing more than brush it off. Her eyes are still glistening, and she’s failed to look away from him even once. While Bellamy has trouble keeping her gaze, his chest constricting whenever those big, blue eyes flicker at him, Clarke remains steady and determined.</p><p> </p><p>“You stopped coming,” Clarke starts, “to the coalition meetings.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy gulps. He knows where this is heading. “I was working.”</p><p> </p><p>“You used to come to all of them. That’s practically the lead guard’s main priority. It was the only time I ever got to see you after…”</p><p> </p><p>After she married Roan. Bellamy knows. And while he’s faltering on the outside, lips refraining from quivering and struggling to keep her gaze, he replies, “Miller handled the meetings well–”</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to see <em>you</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke dares to take another step towards him, so close their torsos almost collide. Her gaze falls from his eyes, if only for a second, to his lips. Bellamy follows her line of sight, a low, shaky breath falling from his mouth before her eyes flicker back to meet his. His mouth ajar slightly, eyes softening just to peer at her through a better lens, he feels like he did two years ago, jelly in the palm of her hands.</p><p> </p><p>To look at him, to really look at him, Clarke has to peer upwards, her gaze prying for his attention. She has all of it, all of Bellamy’s utmost focus. Any word she says now would be implanted in his mind forever, he thinks, and he’s definitely going to have trouble sleeping tonight with the new memories fresh in his mind but he really doesn’t care. His anger melts away, for now, tucked away into a reserve for later use. Now, all that overtakes his features is pity and sorrow, misplaced, but directed only at Clarke. He doesn’t say anything.</p><p> </p><p>And Clarke notices. She soaks it in. He can tell by the way she falls back into her reserve, straightened posture, composed expression and cool stare replacing her vulnerable state in a matter of seconds. Almost on command.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright,” Clarke clears her throat. “We should head back inside.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t wait for Bellamy’s response. Clarke squeezes by him, striding back into the conference room as if nothing happened, another skill she’s blissfully mastered. Bellamy hears the door close behind him, remains frozen staring at the blank hallway. He can hear the murmur of voices from inside, but is only still. It hasn’t set in for him, yet, but he’s sure when it does, it’ll hit him like a ton of bricks falling from the sky without warning.</p><p> </p><p>It does exactly that, every memory of Clarke, every horrible, heartbreaking thing she’s done to him smacking into him with the added force of the last five minutes. Bellamy screws his eyes shut, trying regain some sort of normal breathing pattern, block it all out. He leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath after the tsunami that was Clarke Griffin. The coolness of the wall does nothing to extinguish the heat prickling over Bellamy’s body, fails to keep his mind from racing and his heart from flopping in his chest like a wet rag.</p><p> </p><p>He should go back inside, feign some sort of composure for the rest of the conference meeting. Kane will most likely come outside to retrieve him in a matter of minutes. But the mere thought of stepping into a room with Clarke is torture enough, not to mention her daughter probably resuming her position on her mother’s lap.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy gulps down, glancing back at the closed conference room door. He stares at it for a moment, decides that he doesn’t care about the tongue lashing he’s going to get from Kane and marches in the opposite direction. The murmurs subside the further away he gets, but his heart pounding in his chest just fills his ears instead.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s already learned that there aren’t enough drinks in the world to drown out Clarke. It’s a temporary fix, at most, and gives him enough of a breeze for a couple of hours before she is ingrained back in his mind, whenever another girl with blonde hair simply walks past him. However, now it’s not only Clarke he’s attempting to push to the back of his subconscious, but her daughter, who’s even more detrimental to any sort of well-being Bellamy has left.</p><p> </p><p>They’re everywhere. In the cafeteria, Clarke balancing Mia on her lap while she spoon feeds her, or wandering the halls together or out in the yard, just playing in the grass. It’s simple, and they’re not doing anything wrong. Clarke avoids Bellamy, not having spoken to him, much less summoned him since their altercation during the meeting with the council. But Mia always manages to spot him, the infant only a couple of months old but has a radar vision for him and for him only.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re actually ridiculous,” Miller laughs, swinging his head back to take another shot. “What do you think Clarke does in her spare time? Read stories about the Big Bad Bellamy to her infant daughter?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Bellamy mutters, downing one of the array of shots littered across the table.</p><p> </p><p>“You know how bitter you sound, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shakes his head, not even bothering to wait for his latest shot to simmer down his throat before he reaches for another one. He became accustom to the acidic flavor ages ago, and now his ability to drink alcohol like a glass of water has become concerning. Not to him, of course. Kane’s made a couple of comments, Miller refrains from doing so, but his sideways glances are telling enough. Bellamy could care less, welcoming the burn trickling down his throat, distracting him momentarily from the familiar blonde girl whisking into the common room.</p><p> </p><p>Miller nudges him, nearly knocking the shot glass out of Bellamy’s grip. His head lifts, the blonde not even registering in his sight for a moment. For a split second, he thinks it’s Clarke and he panics something fierce before the woman’s features come into vision. This is the only place Clarke doesn’t come, especially not this late at night. With drinks and bustling music, it’s not really the place to bring a crying baby you’re trying to put down for the night.</p><p> </p><p>The blonde, Bree, he finally realizes, seems to order something from the person tending the bar. But she’s already noticed Bellamy. She glances over her shoulder to see if he’s seen her, too, and with confirmation that his eyes are on her, she sends him a wink. He bows his head to her, keeping her gaze for a moment while he takes another shot, before he glances back down at the decrease in shot glances.</p><p> </p><p>“Hm? Not tonight?” Miller urges him.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” Bellamy mumbles.</p><p> </p><p><em>Probably</em>, both of them know. He’ll wait until Miller excuses himself from the table or for Bree to approach him and then he’ll head to her room, and drill her until she’s screaming his name. She’ll ask him to stay the night, he’ll lie about an early morning and the process will repeat a couple of days later.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy doesn’t want to acknowledge the pitiful look Miller is most definitely sending his way. Bellamy hears him sigh, Miller never being one for big, confrontational speeches. Instead, he drops his words of wisdom like tokens, which Bellamy appreciates to a degree. Sometimes he misses the mark entirely, Bellamy finding the slew of phrases he slung together comical. Of course, tonight isn’t that night.</p><p> </p><p>“I picked up the slack with the coalition,” Miller suddenly says, harsher than Bellamy anticipates. His head lifts to give his friend a glare, but Miller only continues, “And I like having the extra responsibility. But I’m not a buffer between you and Clarke.”</p><p> </p><p>“I never asked you to be,” Bellamy scoffs, reaching for another shot glass.</p><p> </p><p>Miller slams his palm down on the rim of the glass. “Pull it together, Bellamy. Deal with your shit, <em>properly</em>. The coalition needs tightening more than ever now that Clarke’s back. She’s <em>back</em>, Bellamy. With her baby that you claim hates you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rolls his eyes, glancing away from Miller when it becomes too difficult to look him in the eye. He doesn’t have many close friends, not with Octavia gone and Kane attempting to be a father figure and Miller’s the only one he trusts enough to vent to, in the rarest occasions even so. That just makes it harder, Bellamy assumes, the fact that he respects Miller, considers him so close, that he takes what he says to some degree of value.</p><p> </p><p>“I know how you feel about her,” Miller says carefully.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glances back at him.</p><p> </p><p>“And I know that makes it a million times more difficult. But damn, suck it up, Bellamy. She’s not going anywhere. No matter how many drinks you have or how many times you fool around with another nameless blonde.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t need the recap, Miller. I’m fully aware of what I’m doing.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Are you? Cause I think you’re still upset that you weren’t the one who got to play house with Clarke–”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stands abruptly, his chair skidding back behind him. He’s sure they earn some notable stares in the crowded common room, and the glare he sends Miller’s way certainly doesn’t help. Miller’s gaze turns downcast at the wooden table they were sitting at, and Bellamy takes the opportunity to storm away from him. He heads straight up to Bree, who’s eyes are already on him, dazzling and anticipating the words about to emit from his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Your room,” Bellamy growls in her ear.</p><p> </p><p>Without a second thought, Bree abandons her drink with a giggle, fingers twisting around Bellamy’s wrist and eagerly skipping out of the common room. Bellamy stares straight ahead, watching the bob of blonde hair lead the way, closing his eyes when he begins to picture someone else. </p><p> </p><p>Less than half a dozen shots slipped through Bellamy’s lips, but he’s stumbling through the halls like someone who drank double that. Bree drags him like a kid tugging on his sleeve, and if he wasn’t so hellbent on getting Miller’s statement out of his mind, he may have just changed his mind. He thinks about it, really zones out, the thought of his subconscious desire to play <em>house </em>with Clarke no longer as preposterous as his friend originally proposed. He feels nauseous, and he knows it’s not the drinks, continuing his attempt to try and keep up to beat with Bree.</p><p> </p><p>He’s so lost in his own thoughts, Bellamy almost fails to hear the faint cry seeping through the walls. Bellamy snaps his eyes open, responding to the sound as if he were seven years old once again, ears straining for an infant Octavia underneath the floorboards. Bree’s dragging him through the hallway of an array of quarters now, one more turn and they’d be at hers. But the cries grow louder the closer they get, and it’s not Octavia, of course, but it’s someone’s baby, wailing at the top of their lungs.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy yanks his wrist out of Bree’s grasp. “Hold on.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Bree quips an eyebrow, evidently annoyed. The wails only increase, the tiny screams ever so potent as they seep through the walls of the hallway. She huffs, “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t be able to hear her from my quarters, she does this like almost every night.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s gaze lands on the source of the cry, a door near the left of the hall. Before he can approach it, he gives one final glance to Bree, “She?”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke’s kid,” Bree replies, confused, like he should know. “What’s her name? Nia? No, that was the Queen’s, right–”</p><p> </p><p>Bree’s voice drowns out in Bellamy’s ears, his gaze zeroing in back on the door. He hadn’t known what quarter Kane had located her to, kind of assumed she would stay with Abby. The nausea subsides, replaced with guilt – these quarters aren’t suitable for a child, it certainly doesn’t occupy any of the family units. And with Mia wailing on the other side of the door, she must know this, intent on disturbing all of the single occupants that reside on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it’s the drinks – Bellamy will certainly blame it on that – or maybe, it’s just his subconscious desire to tend to Clarke sparking up again. Mia’s cries only become increasingly louder as each second passes, and he brushes past Bree before he can no longer bear it. His fingers wrap against the door.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell, Bellamy?” Bree touches his arm. “Wrong room.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, not tonight, Bree.”</p><p> </p><p>Mia cries louder, but Bellamy thinks this time it’s because he’s getting closer to the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you serious? Clarke can take care of her own goddamn baby–”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy jerks his arm out of her grasp, snapping his head around to glare at her, eyes darkening. “Not tonight, Bree.”</p><p> </p><p>Bree steps back, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and mouth curling into a pout. Bellamy turns his gaze back to the door, the taps of Bree’s feet marching away an undertone to Mia’s cries. He holds his breath, rubbing his sweaty palms against the cargo of his pants, as the door clicks open, revealing a loud flush of cries to flood through the halls.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke stares back at him in alarm. Her eyes are wide and alert, but there are evident bags underneath them. A shirt that is much too big for her drapes past her hips, with stains Bellamy recognizes, similar to what he would see his mother sport when Octavia was little. Her hair is disheveled, pointing in opposite directions, with one lock curled around a tiny infant’s hand. Mia’s bundled up in her arms, limbs flailing and toothless mouth gaped open in a fierce, loud cry.</p><p> </p><p>Neither of them say a word, but the motion is quick. Clarke steps back, Bellamy slipping in through the crack of the door before shutting it swiftly behind him. Now that he’s even closer to the pair, he can see the glisten in Clarke’s eyes, looking up to him pleadingly, and Bellamy wordlessly takes Mia from her grasp. She clings onto her mother, screaming even louder when this man she barely knows takes hold of her. Clarke weeps quietly, Bellamy’s sure out of pure exhaustion, carefully detangling her hair from Mia’s clenched fist.</p><p> </p><p>Mia’s eyes are screwed shut, loud shouts emitting from her tiny mouth as Bellamy carefully readjusts her in his arms. Out of his peripheral, he can see Clarke wander aimlessly to her single bed. He holds Mia closely, surveying over her. Clarke looks like she’s tried everything – she’s fed, her diaper is clean, it’s into the late hours of the night. She’s overly tired.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy gently bounces Mia in his arms, waiting for her mouth to be open wide to slip the tip of his pinky finger past her lips. At first, she nips at him, swiveling her head to get away from him, but Bellamy remains gentle, keeping his finger outstretched for her. He waits, and soon, Mia latches on, cries subsiding as she suckles quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Mia’s eyes flicker open once. They’re blue, but not like Clarke’s. Clarke’s eyes are a soft, poignant type of blue, emitting nothing but warmth and welcoming. Bellamy would spend hours, if he could, just staring at Clarke’s eyes. They’re the most memorizing kind of blue he’s ever seen, even with the brightness of the sky and waves of the ocean he’s now been witness to. If blue had to disappear from Earth forever, he’d be okay with it, because he could still find it in Clarke’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Her daughter has Roan’s blue eyes, icy like the glaciers that coat Ice Nation. They’re a whisk reminder of winter, cold and unforgiving, such the contrast to her mother. She stares up at him, only for a moment, almost like she’s irritated that Bellamy’s attempt was successful. And then, her eyes falter close, and she seems content with suckling on Bellamy’s pinky finger.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy edges toward the crib on the other side of the room, opposite to Clarke’s bed. He detaches his pinky finger from Mia’s mouth, the infant’s lips slightly agape as she sighs in her sleep. Gently, he lays her flat in the crib, as Clarke creeps up behind them. She peers over the bars of the crib at her sleeping daughter, and breathes out in response.</p><p> </p><p>“She hasn’t got used to her new home,” Clarke whispers, and Bellamy hears the hurt in her tone. “It’s so quiet here. I think she was accustom to the noise.” Her head lifts to peer at Bellamy. A brief pause, before, “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nods, lips pressed together firmly. Mia’s sprawled out in her crib, chest rising and falling slowly in the lull of sleep. She looks peaceful, a lot less angry than all the other times Bellamy’s caught sight of her.</p><p> </p><p>Against his better judgment, Bellamy says, “She reminds me of Roan.”</p><p> </p><p>“She has his temperament,” Clarke agrees, a small smile tugging at her lips. This time, her pause is thoughtful, peering back down to glance at her daughter. “I think she misses him. Like she knows he’s gone.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy head swivels to look at her. Clarke’s hair hangs over her cheeks in curtains, long enough that the ends of her hair could brush against her daughter’s stomach. Through the locks of hair, Bellamy notes the redness in her eyes. Her cheeks are stained with dried tears, and her porcelain skin is blotchy. She’d been crying long before he arrived. And yet, through the tints of red in her eyes, her blue eyes only shimmer with the warmth and comfort Bellamy recalls so fondly.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Bellamy speaks quietly. Clarke turns to look at him once more, surprised. He gulps down a lump in throat. “About Roan. He was your husband, you must miss him, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods, lips pressed together thoughtfully. She angles her body away from the crib towards Bellamy, leaning her hip into the wooden frame. “I do. I do miss him. He was an amazing father. He and Mia were attached at the hip.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs softly, as if recalling a memory of her own. Bellamy stares down at her, the ends of his lips betraying him by tugging into a small smile. He hasn’t seen it in so long, longer than the two years that Clarke’s been gone. She’s seems content, happy even. As fast as it appears, it morphs, her face twisting into a reminiscent stare as she glances at her daughter.</p><p> </p><p>“It happened so fast,” Clarke adds softly. “One day, he was rambling about taking Mia down to the stables, showing her the horses. The next, he was injured because of some rogue warrior. And then came the infection. And he was telling me to take Mia to Arkadia, saying he knew she wouldn’t be happy in this life if I wasn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke glances back up at Bellamy, her eyes watering more prominently now. The ghost of a smile forms at her lips. “We weren’t in love, but… he was my only friend there.” Bellamy feels himself tense as she adds, “I wanted to come back here, to be with the people I loved here. To be with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tears his gaze away from her, glancing back down at Mia. He angles his body to face the crib, both of his hands gripping the wooden bar securing her inside. The sleeping infant is in his sight, but he barely registers her, his vision filling with the image of Clarke moments before, looking at him so pleadingly. Like she needed him again. Bellamy closes his eyes, lets out a low breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” the softness of her voice rings through his ears. He feels her shift closer, her chest brushing up against the side of his arm. “I wanted to come back to you. Even though I hadn’t seen you in over a year, I wanted to come home to <em>you</em>.” He hears her voice break when she says, “You were the only thing that kept me sane. Seeing you at those coalition meetings. Why did you stop coming? Why did you stop wanting to see me?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy keeps his eyes closed – afraid of what he’ll show her if he opens them. He remembers why.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He steps into the dining hall in the Polis tower, already scanning the area for Clarke, a routine of his for every bi-monthly coalition meeting. The eagerness, the acceleration of his heart beat, he can almost feel it now with her being so close. It’s been too long since he’s last seen her, every two months feeling longer than the next. His eyes find hers in the blur of the crowd before his gaze casts downward to catch her relieved smile. And then, his eyes drift down further, catching her hand resting upon the swell of her stomach.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s replayed on a loop in his mind so many times. The last coalition meeting he attended was full of much more eventful premises; he couldn’t remember any of them, though. All he could vividly recall was that moment, the second he saw Clarke and her pregnant belly, standing alongside her husband and soon-to-be father of her child.</p><p> </p><p>“I should go,” Bellamy coughs, averting his gaze as his eyes flutter open.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke catches his arm as he steps away. He resists the urge to glance back as her voice breaks, “Bellamy, please stay.”</p><p> </p><p>Another memory pops into his mind at the sound of her plea; just as painful and nauseating, if not even more humiliating. His eyes screw shut once more, chanting in his head to usher it out of his brain as his cheeks burn. Clarke still has her fingers wrapped delicately around his arm, but her touch burns through his jacket, imprinting into his skin and it’s not helping anything. None of this is doing him any good.</p><p> </p><p>As gently as he can muster, Bellamy stretches out of her grasp, glancing over his shoulder to take her in. Clarke’s hand falls to her side, her face dropping into a defeated stare. His body betrays him, turning around so he can face her fully. Her gaze follows him, head turning upwards and eyes lifting up to meet his. She looks so small, almost timid and so un-Clarke Griffin-like that Bellamy wants to crumble into her embrace. She waits for him to say something this time, patiently with her ears perked, big, blue eyes open wide for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” his voice is barely above a whisper, but she hears it. He can’t help the smile that appears on his face when he sees her eyes light up. “As long as you don’t snore.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke laughs, genuine and hearty, and almost too loud that she scares herself, glancing back at Mia, thankfully still sleeping soundly in her crib. A smirk forms on Bellamy’s lips that Clarke catches when she turns back to him, and he dodges a playful hit to his arm.</p><p> </p><p>It takes a considerable amount of time for Bellamy to register that his back is pressed up against the wall, his arms curled around Clarke’s torso, cheek resting lightly on her temple as they lay together in her bed. He doesn’t know how it happens, one minute she’s hotly whispering that he takes the bed as he argues to sleep on the floor, and the next they’re compromising by utilizing the tiny, single bed together. And somehow, along the way, his limbs tangle with hers, and his only focus is the steadiness of her breathing as she lulls herself to sleep. He can’t remember if it’s her who dragged her arms across her or not, but he can shamefully admit that he’s the one to rest his head against the softness of her hair, despite the ample room on the pillow.</p><p> </p><p>The bareness of Clarke’s thighs rubs up against the scratchy fabric of his pants, and he worries for a moment about it leaving a mark. One arm tucked underneath her neck, the other draped around her waist, his gaze travels up to his hand, subconsciously rubbing circles on her stomach. Bellamy tilts his head, managing to keep his cheek pressed against her golden locks, wondering how in the hell they got into this position – not really caring enough to question it further. He listens contently to the hum of Clarke’s breathing, finds enough comfortability to close his eyes without flashes back to a time when they couldn’t do this.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy would’ve thought she was asleep long before, if she hadn’t brought her hand up behind her head, fingers lightly ghosting across his cheek. His breath hitches as her fingers find his lips, tickling them slightly. He doesn’t move, despite the ache in his chest when her hand pulls away, drops back to her side for a moment before it comes up to halt his hand circling at her belly. He opens his mouth to apologize, although he’s certain it’ll come out as a stutter, and then she tangles her fingers with his, and sighs contently.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” he hears her mumble.</p><p> </p><p>“Hm,” is all Bellamy manages to get out.</p><p> </p><p>A pause. And then, “I really missed you.”</p><p> </p><p>He should say it back, but then she tucks herself further into his embrace, snuggles her head into the pillow and Bellamy’s mesmerized. It’s almost like it’s not real. He stares at her for God knows how long until he finally falls asleep, memorizing her hair sprawled across the pillow, how peaceful her face rests when she sleeps, her body curled so securely into his own. When he wakes up, it’s almost like he just blinks, the image of her sleeping still fresh in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s head lifts, dazed, unsure of what time it is with no windows in her quarters. His arm is still draped around her torso, and when his gaze casts downward, she’s sleeping soundly. A small smile tugs at his lips, a hand reaching out to brush the strand of hair that’s sprawled over her cheek sometime throughout the night.</p><p> </p><p>A murmur halts his hand mid reach, Bellamy’s head jerking upwards to the source. Mia peaks in between the bars of the crib, icy eyes staring menacingly at Bellamy, apparently pleased with disregarding night before. It’s almost like a warning, the sharp noise that escapes her mouth next before Bellamy’s hand falls back to his own side. She’s reminding him what this is.</p><p> </p><p>Miller’s voice rings in his head. <em>I wasn’t the one who got to play house with Clarke</em>. He could swear that Mia shares that same thought.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy wouldn’t consider Clarke’s transition back to Arkadia seamless, but anyone can tell she’s making a genuine effort. She wins over some people rather easily, either just by being so naturally well-spoken and convincing or flashing her adorable baby at people. Some don’t even care that all Mia does is look at them like they aren’t worthy enough to speak to her, they just gush over the infant in the doting mother’s arms and are sold just like that. Bellamy’s seen it happen, with his own eyes, more than once.</p><p> </p><p>“You know,” Kane appears beside him, almost out of thin air. It’s stopped startling Bellamy, since this happens such a gross amount of times. He doesn’t even look away to acknowledge him. “You could just say hi.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s blatant eyeroll is ignored as Kane playfully nudges his elbow. His gaze lands back on the scene before him, watching as Clarke chats effortlessly with a couple locals across the plain of grass just before the gate. They’re all fixated on Mia, the infant curling into her mother’s arms and clearly distressed. Clarke’s trying her best, but even her perfected fake smile has its cracks, her attempt to socialize her daughter with Arkadia’s citizens failing.</p><p> </p><p>“Heard Clarke’s relocating to a family unit. They’re usually reserved for two parent households,” Kane mentions, his poor attempt at sounding casual abundantly apparent. “Any idea how that happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stiffens, his jaw clenching. “I’m not in charge of housing.”</p><p> </p><p>He is most certainly not in charge of housing – but he does happen to have some sort of sway when it comes to how things work around Arkadia. Bellamy begrudgingly has his seat on the council to thank, but only partially. Sometimes, he can just be very persuasive with a really good glare.</p><p> </p><p>Kane laughs, evidently aware of Bellamy’s part in Clarke’s relocation. Bellamy ignores the blush that creeps up on his cheeks, pretending to be invested in the job he’s hired to do, scanning the plain grass area for discrepancies or conflicts. His eyes glaze over Clarke on his first sweep, but his self-control is weakened the next time he scans, catching the way her hair glows in the sunlight as her daughter tucks her face into her mother’s neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Abby says Mia’s got a bit of a cold shoulder,” Kane states, as if Bellamy had urged him on or something.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve noticed,” Bellamy scoffs.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you? Clarke’s been back for three weeks, and I’ve barely seen you two speak. And when I do, it’s not pleasant.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy bites the inside of his cheek. He hasn’t returned to Clarke’s quarters since that night. It wasn’t his place to reintegrate himself back in her life, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted things to go back to the way they were. They couldn’t, anyways – not with the daughter of Ice Nation’s deceased King wrapped in Clarke’s grip.</p><p> </p><p>“You and Miller need to find a hobby,” Bellamy mutters, finally tearing his eyes away from Clarke and her child. “I don’t exist for Clarke.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nobody said you did, Bellamy–”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Cause all you guys have been doing is egging me on, begging me to talk to her, to be her friend,” Bellamy angles his body toward Kane, makes sure his tone is hush and out of earshot from Clarke. His eyes begin to burn, but he ignores it, staring directly at Kane. “I can’t be her friend.”</p><p> </p><p>Kane purses his lips together, and the pitiful look he casts at Bellamy makes him want to punch a wall. “You’ve never just been her friend.”</p><p> </p><p><em>That’s the problem</em>, Bellamy mulls over. He glances over his shoulder, noticing how the crowd of locals have dwindled, Clarke being left by her lonesome with Mia. She seems less fussy now with less of an audience, tugging at her mother’s hair with her tiny fists, a toothless grin on her face. His heart soars when Clarke’s face lights up, a relieved, genuine smile appearing on her lips as she babbles away to her daughter.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s seem Clarke smile a handful of times, and each time it’s something different. Some are genuine, some are forced, sometimes there’s a laugh escaping her lips with one or a hint of a blush accompanying it. He’s watched her so many times, caught her so many times all those years ago, that he convinced himself he memorized every one of her facial expressions. They were ingrained so heavily in his mind, he would create his own memories of her, just to settle his own nerves. Just to tell himself that she was okay.</p><p> </p><p>“I used to think about what it was like for her in Ice Nation,” Bellamy speaks softly, almost like a whisper as it leaves his lips. “I always tried to picture her happy. I wanted her to be happy, if that’s where she had to spend the rest of her life.” He pauses, gulping down a lump that’s formed in his throat – hyperaware of Kane burning holes into the side of his cheek. “And now…”</p><p> </p><p>“And now, she’s back,” Kane finishes for him. Bellamy looks back at him. “What do you want her life to look like here?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not that easy,” Bellamy ignores his deviation, sighing deeply.</p><p> </p><p>“Because of Mia?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not just that–”</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy, Clarke being a mother doesn’t mean that–”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s more than a mother,” Bellamy hisses, glaring intently at Kane. “She’s always been <em>more</em>. And I used to know exactly what that more was, but now she’s back, with her daughter, with a life before this one I know nothing about, that I couldn’t even think to imagine.”</p><p> </p><p>Kane’s features soften, eyes morphing into that signature pitiful stare of his. Bellamy’s cheeks begin to burn, his eyes fleeing around to ensure nobody heard his outburst. Fortunately, everyone seems to be doing what their supposed to – working, and the humiliation that threatens to overtake Bellamy’s chest urges him to return and do the same.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy takes a step backwards from Kane, towards the entrance doors of Arkadia. He glances one more time over at Clarke, who’s now set Mia down in the grass. The infant claws at the fresh stems as Clarke kneels beside her, that smile – telling a story Bellamy’s never heard before – reaching all the way to her ears on her face. His heart skips a beat.</p><p> </p><p>Low, only registering in his own ears, Bellamy says, “She was never supposed to come back.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Bellamy, I need you–”</p><p> </p><p>He hears her voice through the cracks of the door, after the absurd banging on the steel interior. Despite the hardest of knocks, it’s what strikes Bellamy the most; feels most urgent and pleading. It’s not the words that unravel him, not those eight little letters that reveal every ounce of desire to enforce, to protect, to uphold everything he used to be. It’s the voice that sings the song, harsh and stern and wiser than anyone in her early twenties should be that urges Bellamy to swing open the door before the sentence is even finished.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke stands before him, unsurprisingly cradling Mia on her hip. Bellamy learns quick that the two are practically joined together, and it reminds him of his earliest years with Octavia, begging his mother not to send him to school so he could keep an eye on her underneath the floorboards. Clarke shares a similar pleading look, eyes just a little bit wider than his, and all the more blue.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Bellamy doesn’t mean for his voice to boom, but it does, causing Clarke to straighten and compose herself in a matter of seconds.</p><p> </p><p>“I have a meeting with the council in a couple minutes, about the next coalition assembly,” Clarke explains calmly, although Bellamy notes the nervous tick of her bouncing Mia on her hip. “It’s going to be a couple hours long. I can’t bring Mia.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stiffens, his hand tightening its grip around the doorframe. He forces himself not to glance at the baby in Clarke’s arms. “Your mom–”</p><p> </p><p>“Just got called in medbay,” Clarke informs him. A silence hangs in between them for a moment before Clarke prods, “I wouldn’t have asked if I had another option.”</p><p> </p><p>It stings. Bellamy gulps it down, casting his gaze towards Mia, the infant blissfully unaware of her mother’s intentions. She stares almost as if she’s bored, and Bellamy realizes her icy glare is just her resting face, similar to her father’s. It tightens Bellamy’s chest, raising his chin at the harmless infant in Clarke’s grasp. Mia hangs onto her mother limply, as if trusting Clarke’s strength and dedication to her – unwavering and cemented.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke adjusts her daughter on her hip, Bellamy’s head lifting to meet her pleading eyes. Blue, warm, inviting, Bellamy’s heart melting at the familiar stare. Clarke’s lips press together tightly, knowing no more words would suffice, not when she can see the way Bellamy pours into her whenever their eyes meet.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Bellamy agrees with a curt nod. Clarke’s eyebrows raise, sensing hesitation. He steps forward and extends his arms, “I’ll take her.”</p><p> </p><p>Glancing at her daughter, Clarke pauses. Mia rests her head against her mother’s shoulder, but her stare is intent on Bellamy. He tries his best to offer a genuine smile, but it comes out as an awkward, half-smile. Mia’s mastered the art of a glare, specifically geared towards Bellamy, yet he manages to remain still and appear unphased. The last thing he needs is Clarke sensing that he’s intimidated by her nine month old daughter.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke ghosts her finger under Mia’s chin, a round of giggles erupting from the infant. Mia straightens in her mother’s hold, her eyes squinting and smile spreading into a gummy grin with delight. Clarke smiles at her daughter, something so full of heart and wishful that Bellamy’s heart cracks a little bit. She shifts her gaze to Bellamy, her eyes locking with his. He captures her stare for a moment, soaking in the words they’ve always been able to leave unsaid. Her teeth graze against her lower lip, glancing back to Mia for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“You can trust me,” Bellamy states. Clarke looks back to him, startled. He tilts his head to the side, tries to offer her an easy grin. “I’ve had this babysitting thing down since I was seven.”</p><p> </p><p>“If I trust anyone with my baby, it’s you,” Clarke says, a relieved smile settling over her lips.</p><p> </p><p>She shifts her gaze back to Mia for a fleeting moment, pressing a kiss to her cheek before handing her over to Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>To his surprise, Mia doesn’t resist, allowing Bellamy to take her into his arms. She doesn’t curl into him like she does with her mother, instead straightening her body against his torso, never once taking her eyes off Clarke. As he adjusts Mia in his grasp, he can’t find it within himself to blame her. His eyes are still on Clarke, too, and he finds it increasingly difficult to muster the strength to look away from her.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sighs deeply, casting a wanting expression over at her daughter. Bellamy’s sure she doesn’t mean to, but she holds onto his forearm as she leans in and kisses Mia’s head. He feels her touch as she pulls away, the ghost of her fingers imprinting his skin.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Clarke says. “I owe you.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Bellamy can say that she doesn’t, Clarke’s scurrying off down the hall. He watches her go, her tiny frame minimizing the farther she strides. It’s only when she disappears around the corner that Bellamy registers the baby in his arms, looking back to Mia, who’s finally allowed her gaze to shift back to him. And as always, she’s completely and utterly unimpressed.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>For the first while, Bellamy’s not quite sure what to do with her. His quarters are small and dark, with dim lighting providing less than ample insight into the abyss of his living space. With Octavia, he would pull his mother’s fabric over his eyes and whisk it away from him in a Peak-A-Boo smile game, just to hear her giggle. But when he glances at Mia, her expression blank and bothered, he’s not sure he would be able to pull anything from her aside from a scream or a cry. And he would really prefer is Clarke didn’t return to retrieve her daughter in the midst of a tantrum.</p><p> </p><p>With that hope in mind, Bellamy places Mia in the middle of his bed, surrounding her two pillows on the end not against the wall. And Bellamy just sits in front of her, on the floor, watching her. Ensuring that she doesn’t fall or leap or burst into tears. He sits on the cold floor, almost convincing himself this is Octavia and not Clarke’s daughter sitting before him. But Octavia was only ever quiet because she needed to be, Mia seems to take solace in the silence.</p><p> </p><p>Mia seems to take no complaint to Bellamy’s decision, busying herself with the slack of the pillows in mere curiosity. She slams her palms against it, thin eyebrows furrowing together with the slick smack that echoes from it. Grasping it with her fingers, she tugs at the fabric, also displeased with its cotton feel. Her lips pout, but not to cry, just analytical. It scary how much that expression reminds him of Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>“Pillows must be made out of snow in Ice Nation,” Bellamy grumbles. Almost as if she understands, Mia’s head peaks up to glare at him. He purses his lips, then sighs, “You’re smart like your mom, aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Again, no response aside from a blank stare comes from the daughter of the Ice King. She only stares at him, those blue eyes icy like her father’s freezing up the lungs in his chest. Clarke had the ability to take his breath away, too, but never because he was intimidated by her. With Clarke, he was amazed, in pure wonder of everything that she did and said, everything that made her, her own. Her daughter is a completely different story, a whole other aspect to her life that’s contributed to the person Clarke is that Bellamy now doesn’t know.</p><p> </p><p>Realizing he’s lost in thought, Bellamy snaps back into reality, refocusing his attention on Mia. She’s still looking at him, but this time her head is tilted to the side in curiosity, peering at him like she wants to know more. Bellamy glances up at her from his position on the floor, and she glowers back down at him, a twinge of uncertainty lacing her features.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stands to his feet, and Mia’s eyes follow. She purses her lips together with a definitive pout, but her gaze never leaves him. He towers over her, looking down at this child who sits complacent before him, ready for a showdown if he were to want one. That’s a combination of her parents, Roan’s fire paired with Clarke’s willingness. He can’t help it, it brings a small smile to his face, just as his heart cracks a bit in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>With a huff, Bellamy leans forward and collects Mia into his arms. She makes no protest aside from the furrow of her brows, allowing Bellamy to adjust her on his hip. It’s almost difficult for him to look at her, the product of Roan and Clarke in his grasp, but he forces himself to, anyways. Mia stares back at Bellamy, and he wonders if she would ever be able to feel the same pang of betrayal that he does whenever he looks at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to go outside?” Bellamy inquires, a little desperate for some fresh air. Mia doesn’t respond. She just stares at him, with those big, blue eyes. He's already heading towards the door before any protest can be made.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Mia loves being outside. The minute Bellamy steps out into the sun, the glowing rays basking over the two of them, a toothless grin spreads across her face. She lurches forward, nearly knocking herself out of Bellamy’s grasp to reach towards the grass. He panics, heart jolting in his chest as he holds onto Mia’s torso, gently guiding her towards a patch of glass close to the walls of Arkadia, off to the side. She sinks into the grass immediately, fingers gripping into the stems of grass and ripping them from their roots.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sits behind her, propping up her torso with his own. He arms outstretch behind him, palms sinking into the grass as he eyes Mia. She quite blissfully ignores him, emerging herself into the outdoors. He watches, amusement etching into his smile as Mia beams at the sun, almost as if she thinks it’s shining just for her. She makes fist in the grass, jerking her body upwards to scoot farther away from the wall Bellamy shifted the two of them against.</p><p> </p><p>Flopping her body forward, Mia slams her palms into the grass. Bellamy sits up straight, alert as Mia begins crawling towards the gate. They’re a considerable distance away from the gate and general public, but he stands to his feet anyways, carefully tiptoeing behind her. Mia either pretends not to notice him or simply doesn’t care, keeping up her steady pace as she treads through the grass.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, you’re fast,” Bellamy mutters to himself, quickening his pace in order to keep up with the infant. Mia has no fear, interjecting her tiny self in between a slew of people halfway to the gate. Bellamy bends at the knee, placing his hands on either side of her torso to hoist her up. “You know, you’re so tiny, people won’t see you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mia pouts, but no tears collect in her eyes. Bellamy doesn’t even register that he’s smiling until she lurches her body forward again. He tries to maintain a neutral expression as he balances Mia on his hip, aware there’s eyes lingering on them. Ensuring that they’re back against the wall, he places Mia back down on the grass, leaning against the Arkadia wall. Mia takes joy in the grass once more and Bellamy’s eyes flicker up to the citizens of Arkadia that pretend they’re just walking back while they eye the two of them.</p><p> </p><p>If everyone’s fascinated with Clarke, they’re obsessed with her daughter. Part sky and part ice, Mia’s existence is taboo, despite her parent’s calculated marriage. Bellamy wasn’t the only one who despised the idea of an alliance with Ice Nation nor the consummation being Clarke and Roan’s wedding. It sparked a slew of outrage on behalf of Arkadia, despite the guarantee of peace. A princess from the sky wed to the ruthless king from Azgeda, now with the infant daughter living within the four walls of Arkadia.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t look any better having Bellamy around Mia. It took him years to be respected in Arkadia, and now as lead guard, it’s exactly what he’s gained. The sideways glances and eye rolls have greatly decreased since his years as a janitor. People talk to him less, purely out of fear. Bellamy likes it. He only speaks to who he wants to anyways.</p><p> </p><p>Having eyes on the two of them, though, irritates him. Bellamy shifts a little closer to Mia, angling his body to shield her from the onlookers. Mia’s head lifts as Bellamy shields the sun, confusion etching into her tiny, little features. He stares back at her, an amused smile on his face, hoping to maintain her light mood. She seems to give him a break, turning her attention back towards the grass.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” a familiar voice seeps into his ear. Bellamy swivels his head over his shoulder, noting Abby approaching the two of them. “You’re a hard man to find.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy bows his head, glancing back at Mia, sheepishly. “Sorry. I thought some air would do us some good.”</p><p> </p><p>Abby pauses in the grass, towering over Bellamy and her granddaughter. He doesn’t have to look at her to make out her watchful expression. Abby always has an opinion, and she’s got quite the judgmental streak to her. Bellamy’s certain she’s had a few choice words to say about him in the past, but the two of them have created a solid foundation in Clarke’s absence. She may consider him a friend, if only for him being so close to her daughter.</p><p> </p><p>“She seems to like you,” Abby evaluates, tilting her head to the side in examination.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy keeps his gaze trained on Mia as she paws through the grass. “Don’t think so. I think she just likes being outside.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke did say she enjoys being out. But I don’t know, I think she’s taken a liking to you, Bellamy. A lot more so than when she first met you.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s not that far of a memory. Bellamy’s certain that just this morning Mia did not like him. Just because she didn’t put up a fuss didn’t mean she hadn’t still had her mind made up about him. She may be an infant, but she’s Clarke’s daughter. That automatically makes her a million times smarter than the average nine month old.</p><p> </p><p>Humming to himself, an half-smile creeps onto Bellamy’s face. Mia wraps her fingers around a patch of grass and pulls it from the ground, bringing it close to her face. Bellamy straightens, thinking she’s about to take a bite out of it, but Mia just marvels at the Earth in between her fingers. He sits back on his palms, content watching Mia immerse herself in the outdoors.</p><p> </p><p>“You know what I mean, don’t you, Bellamy?” Abby prods.</p><p> </p><p>That’s the thing about Abby. When it doesn’t have to do with her, she finds it difficult to let stuff go.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy merely glances at her, “I raised my sister. Of course kids like me.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s more than that. She likes you because Clarke does.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke likes a lot of people that Mia doesn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe. But she’s got to know there’s something special about you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tears his eyes away from Abby, not even glancing back at Mia as he casts his gaze towards the soil beneath him. <em>Something special about you</em>. Bellamy huffs. Clarke may have thought that, once, in the quiet whispers of his quarters, before she became the wife of the King of Ice Nation. But now, he’s just here, the only familiar presence Clarke has aside from her mother that will still speak to her from time to time. Whatever type of special he was, whatever type of special Abby or Mia thinks he is, it’s nothing compared to the blandness of him today.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean it, Bellamy,” Abby insists, scooting closer to him. “Clarke saw it before the rest of us did. But you’ve proved yourself over and over again, even when she left–”</p><p> </p><p>“You sound like Kane,” Bellamy laughs bitterly, tracing his finger along the path in the grass.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Abby adjusts herself, sharing a longing look at her granddaughter playing in the grass. She pauses, but Bellamy can sense the wheels turning in that mind of hers. “I understand now, is what I’m trying to say. Why Clarke places so much trust in you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy doesn’t amuse her with a reply. Abby may understand, but he certainly doesn’t. There’s the self-explanatory things; he’s a natural enforcer, has a deep enough voice for people to listen to him. He knows how to take care of a kid, thanks to the sister, granted, who he has no clue where the fuck she is. He can manage himself and others and the guard with ease, or well enough that there’s not mass casualties on the daily. It’s all very base level, something another man can do. After all, Clarke understood that. Whatever was special about him wasn’t enough to get her to stay.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not just trust that she has in you,” Abby nudges him. “It’s more than that.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy closes his eyes. He can’t hear it. Drawing out a low breath, he forces himself to turn his head to Abby and open his eyes. “Thanks for the input, Abby.”</p><p> </p><p>Abby sews her lips together tightly, straightening her posture. She doesn’t press more, some part of her seemingly knows better. Instead, she uncurls her legs and stands to her feet, dusting herself off.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take her off your hands,” Abby announces, crouching back down to retrieve Mia.</p><p> </p><p>Mia seems to blissfully ignore her grandmother, throwing her body over Bellamy’s leg. Bellamy leans over to adjust her, but Mia finds her own balance, crawling up the valley in between his legs. She slams one palm down on his thigh, holding out her other hand towards his nose. A scruff of grass tickles up Bellamy’s nose, and he has to suppress a sneeze to refrain from scaring her. He tilts his chin back, leveling his eyes downward as Mia stares up at him, wide eyed and curious as she outstretches a patch of grass to him.</p><p> </p><p>A peace offering, he presumes. She’s as abrupt with her agreements as her father, he’ll give her that. But it brings a small smile to Bellamy’s face, one that he tries his best to shield from Abby. Bellamy can see the edges of her lips tip into a knowing smirk out of his peripheral, but he ignores her, focusing on Mia as she eagerly awaits his acceptance of her gift.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tucks his hands under Mia’s armpits, balancing her on his upper thigh. She leans against his torso, the grass still gripped tightly in her hand. He holds his palm out to her, and she places the patch of grass into his hand without question, looking up to him for affirmation. He tips his head to her, and she seems content for the moment, before launching herself back into the grass. Bellamy steadies her, holding the remnants of the grass in between his fingers before he settles Mia back in the field.</p><p> </p><p>Abby is still staring at him, awaiting a response. Bellamy keeps his gaze intent on Mia, not sure he can handle her judgmental stare at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got her,” Bellamy confirms.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke returns to his quarters later that night when Mia’s fast asleep on his bed. He’s surrounded her with the two pillows he has, and some bunched up shirts, just to ensure that she doesn’t roll off the bed. She takes up the rest of the space quite leisurely, sprawling her little limbs across the empty space. Clarke has to suppress a giggle when she sees the show Bellamy’s surrounded her daughter with.</p><p> </p><p>“A bit overkill, don’t you think?” Clarke muses.</p><p> </p><p>“Octavia didn’t have much places to toss and turn under the floorboards,” Bellamy states with a shrug. “Couldn’t take any chances.”</p><p> </p><p>A faint smile appears on Clarke’s lips. She casts her gaze down towards her sleeping daughter, but Bellamy’s eyes are on her. He can see the wheels turning in her mind, and isn’t surprised when she tips her head back up to him. “I haven’t seen Octavia at all since I’ve been back. Is she coming to visit soon?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy quiets, swallowing thickly, trying his best to lock his eyes with Clarke’s. She’s probably prying for information that he’s not certain he wants to give her, and with that twinkle in her eye, it’s so hard for him to deny her anything. He tears his stare away from her, settling his gaze back down to Mia. Her chest rises and falls slowly, sound asleep, unaware to the two people looming above her, the tension rapidly filling the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Your guess is as good as mine,” Bellamy settles on.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”</p><p> </p><p>It tumbles from his lips before he can restrain it. If Clarke’s gaze was pressing before, it’s burning holes into his skin now. Bellamy just stares down at Mia, too afraid to glance at Clarke. He watches Mia’s chest rise and fall slowly, limbs sprawled out on the mattress, confined by the pillows and bunched up clothes while her mother towers over her, eyes locked on the back of Bellamy’s head.</p><p> </p><p>Octavia left before Clarke did. After the City of Light was demolished and Pike bled out on the ground, she barely said any goodbyes to anyone. She stopped at Arkadia, told Bellamy this is what she had to do – and he understood. His relationship with his sister was long beyond repair, and although he would spend the rest of his life trying to mend things, Octavia clearly wasn’t ready for that. Now, almost two and a half years later, she never visited him. Not even once. Indra kept him updated every couple of months, told him she was alive, but that was the only sort of information he was provided with.</p><p> </p><p>It was harder in the beginning. Spending his days without Octavia when he practically dedicated his life to her since she was born was difficult. More so than when she was in lockup back on the Ark. All he would do is think about everything he fucked up on, everything he could have done to not only keep his sister alive, but prevent her from hating his guts. It would have been the loneliest he’d ever been in his life, if he hadn’t had Clarke. And for the first six months, she was there. And then, she couldn’t be.</p><p> </p><p>And that was a whole different type of loss. Losing Octavia was like a piece of him had chipped away, forcing him to rebuild a place inside him without her. To this day, he thinks tirelessly of his sister. But losing Clarke was like forgetting how to breathe, gasping for air in the middle of the day while she spent her days building a life, building <em>a family </em>– without him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy supposes Octavia is doing something similar, forging a life without him. It’s a different type of hurt, knowing that Octavia’s out there being her own individual because he made her feel contained, insufferable. Meanwhile, Clarke lives – lived – in Ice Nation for anybody, but herself. The obligation to her people was more valuable to her that anything he could provide.</p><p> </p><p>“Used to what?” Clarke’s voice is uncharacteristically timid, breaking his train of thought. “Used to Octavia not being around?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy doesn’t have to say anything this time. Clarke’s always had a bit of a habit of reading his mind, knowing exactly what to say to extract things from him, or just enough to discern the expression on his face. Time hasn’t stolen that skillset from her.</p><p> </p><p>A deep sigh escapes Clarke’s lips, and she angles her body towards him. “I didn’t want to leave you, Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t have to do this,” Bellamy turns away from her, marching towards the door as if he would shuffle her out of his quarters without her daughter. He just needs to put the distance between them. It’s almost ironic, the way he craves distance from Clarke <em>now</em>. “It’s getting late, you should get going–”</p><p> </p><p>Before he can even reach for the doorknob, Clarke catches his wrist. “No. I’ve told you this a million times before, and you still don’t believe me.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy inhales deeply, holding his breath in his nose before he exhales. Clarke’s fingers wrap gently around his wrist, the softness of her touch tingling up his forearm and sparking something deep in his heart. He forces himself to glance over his shoulder at her, those big, blue eyes wide, pleading for something he doesn’t know if he can give her.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” her voice seeps into his ears and brings goosebumps to the arm she’s holding onto. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.”</p><p> </p><p>He scoffs. He can’t help it.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke lets go of his wrist, suddenly aware of her hold on him, hurt resonating over her features. Bellamy angles his body to face her, a hardened expression masking any kind of authenticity. He suppresses the burning in his eyes with a couple of fast blinks that he’s sure Clarke takes note of. She lets her chest rise and fall, and Bellamy can tell she’s calculating her words. Another scoff threatens to slip past his lips, but he lets out a breath of hot air instead and shakes his head in dismay.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Clarke demands to know. He doesn’t grace her without a response, doesn’t know what to even say. Her eyes narrow and she steps forward. “You suddenly can’t talk to me after–”</p><p> </p><p>“After you spent the last two years as the Queen of fucking Ice Nation?” Bellamy hisses, the words speeding from his lips before he can restrain them. “I can’t talk to you after you left your people to become one of them?”</p><p> </p><p>“I left for our people,” Clarke clarifies, “We’ve gone through this. <em>So many times</em>. The coalition was falling apart. With no Commander, marriages needed to happen in order to keep the peace–”</p><p> </p><p>“And it just had to be you. You had to be the one to marry Roan.”</p><p> </p><p>“Keep your voice down, Bellamy. We couldn’t subject anyone else to that–”</p><p> </p><p>“It could’ve been me. I could have been the one to marry off, but you made the decision that it would be you. You didn’t talk to Kane about it, or your mother, or <em>me</em>. Not until you were already one foot out the fucking door.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sews her mouth shut, surveying over Bellamy. He keeps his eyes locked on her, fury flashing in his eyes before they’re subdued by the way his heart aches. She could form an argument, tell him all the logical reasons why it had to be her. She’s more of a forward thinker, she could separate the feelings of a marriage from their duty, the Grounders have always respected Clarke a million times more than they ever did him. Logically, it was always going to be her.</p><p> </p><p>But it could have not been. If Clarke had said no, if she had just <em>listened to him</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I begged you not to go,” Bellamy’s voice breaks. “I stood in front of you and I begged you not to marry him.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Clarke stares back at Bellamy, bewildered with her wide, blue eyes. “Bellamy. I’m about to walk down the aisle. This isn’t the time for a saving grace.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I could take you somewhere,” Bellamy’s voice is hazy, eyes bulging as he steps towards Clarke, taking her hands in his own. He tries not to dwell on the flow of her dress, decorated with traditional Azgeda flowers in her hair. She looks beautiful, and stunning and unearthly and Ice Nation doesn’t deserve to see her like this. “Indra says Octavia comes back and forth from a beach, not too far–”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“You haven’t spoken to Octavia in months–”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“This isn’t about Octavia–”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Then what’s it about, Bellamy? Because if I don’t do this, if I don’t marry Roan, our people have no peace. We could start a war–”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t marry Roan, Clarke.” Tears are pricking at his eyes in a cluster of frustration and heartache. Bellamy’s grip tightens on her hands. “Please. Don’t marry him.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke’s gaze falls over him with understanding, almost as if a waterfall crashes down over her head and soaks her with the realization. Her fingers wrap around his hand, balancing the tight grip he has on hers. There’s a sudden moment of peace with the reassurance in her touch, Bellamy relishes in a little too much. He steps closer to her, and they’re so close that if he tilted his head just the slightest bit, he could rest his forehead against hers.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>But Clarke tilts her head up, forcing her eyes to lock with his. A look of poise takes over her features, and her grip loosens around Bellamy’s hands. He struggles to maintain that grasp on her, knowing she’s already pulling away. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Why?” Clarke whispers. “Why can’t I marry him?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Do you remember what I said to you?” Bellamy’s voice is just above a whisper. Clarke’s eyes cloud with tears, but he presses on. “Do you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I do,” Clarke’s voice cracks as a stray tear slides down her cheek. “I think about it every day, Bellamy–”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you I loved you. I told you we could run away, and be together, and have our <em>own family</em>,” Bellamy’s words come out in shakes. “And it wasn’t enough. You started a life and a family with him.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shakes her head, tears streaming down her cheeks without her permission now. “You know it wasn’t that simple, Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I could have managed. If you told me you didn’t love me, if I was nothing more than a confidant or a friend. I could have had that, knowing you could possibly find love in Roan if you didn’t have any for me. But you said nothing. You walked out of that tent, and down the aisle and that was it.”</p><p> </p><p>“There was nothing I could say, Bellamy! I couldn’t stay!”</p><p> </p><p>“We could have figured it out, <em>together</em>! It didn’t have to be you!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well it was, Bellamy! What am I supposed to do now? I can’t erase any of it. And I wouldn’t if I could, because now I have Mia–”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy exhales shakily, leaning in so close to Clarke that their noses almost graze against one another. Through gritted teeth, he says, “She could have been <em>mine</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>It surprises Bellamy just as much as it stuns Clarke. He straightens, placing the much needed distance between him and Clarke as the weight of everything said tumbles down on the two of them. He can feel his chest heaving, is sure his eyes are close to bulging out of his head, but none of that resonates. All he can do is take in Clarke, standing before him with tears staining her porcelain cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from the remnants of tears, Clarke’s stunned expression fades into something blank. The flicker of surprise from her eyes morphs into something stoic, controlled. He panics a bit when he sees it, Clarke transforming back into her natural born state; leader of the people, full of logic and nothing, but wise. This is the Clarke that chose to break his heart, and it makes his heart shatter once more, into a million tiny, irreparable pieces.</p><p> </p><p>A cry disrupt their stares. Both of their heads snap towards Mia, now sitting up on Bellamy’s bed, her face twisted into a cry. Clarke makes a beeline for her, taking Mia into her arms and allowing her daughter to rest her head against her head.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” despite the stoic of her expression, there’s a crack in Clarke’s voice. “I’m here, baby.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy just watches, Mia’s cries subsiding in her mother’s grasp. Clarke slowly rocks her back and forth, avoiding any sort of eye contact with Bellamy as he peers on. Mia settles in her mother’s embrace, and Clarke takes that advantage to turn towards the door.</p><p> </p><p>He opens the door for her, holding it there and providing her ample opportunity for a graceful exit. Clarke takes it, doesn’t even glance at him as she storms past him and into the hall. She whisks by him, wordlessly, Mia cradled on her hip. Bellamy bows his head, unable to watch her step out of his quarters, but unable to restrain himself any further, stepping out into the hall to view Clarke quickening her pace down the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke doesn’t turn back once. He stares on, watching her waltz away from him without hesitation. Mia, however, peaks over her mother’s shoulder. Her blue eyes have always told a different story than Clarke’s, and as she stares down Bellamy, she raises her tiny, little hand to wave. It hurts all the more, and Bellamy remains completely still until the pair disappear around the corner, Mia’s hand outstretched to him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy doesn’t see Clarke for days. Since she’s been back, they can go weeks without really speaking, but he always sees her around somewhere. In the common room grabbing lunch, storming around the halls like she’s on a mission, busying herself in medbay with her mother. Not that he would admit it, but he often walks around the perimeter of the gate when he’s not on duty, just to catch sight of Clarke and Mia playing in the grass. They’re never there.</p><p> </p><p>He tells himself not to worry, because he knows she’s still here. Abby sends him wayward glances, not saying anything but silently begging him to. He’s not sure how much Clarke has told her mother, but she certainly knows something. And on that account, so does Kane, who squeezes his shoulder a little harder in between duty reports, accompanied by that annoying, half-assed attempt at a reassuring smile. Bellamy never says anything to either of them, but they’re going to become fed up with waiting around for him eventually.</p><p> </p><p>That day happens to be as he’s actually on duty, prowling the front gate. Abby steps outside with her granddaughter cradled in her arms, scanning the patches of grass for a safe and secure spot to place her down. Mia eagerly looks around, practically bouncing out of her grandmother’s grasp to land into the grass. A smile small creeps onto Bellamy’s face before he forces himself to focus back on his post, ignoring the burning sensation lingering in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy swears, he can hear Mia’s giggles of delight all the way from his post. He tries to drown it up, strike up a conversation with Monty, who he’s grateful to have beside him. But his mind is elsewhere, and he is barely registering what Monty is saying before he feels a tug at the hem of his pants.</p><p> </p><p>Swirling his head around, Mia perches herself at his ankle, her tiny fist curled around the hem of his pants. She looks up at him, wide eyed and all gummy smiles. He’s never really seen Mia smile before. Not like this anyways; almost as if she’s relieved that she’s finally found him. It would be heartwarming, if he didn’t instantly think of Clarke looking at him similarly all those years ago.</p><p> </p><p>Abby waltzes up to them, just a couple feet away. Bellamy snaps his head up towards her, irritated by the small smile that resonates over her features. He excuses himself to Monty before bending over to pick up Mia. She outstretches her arms to him, allowing Bellamy to balance her on his hip.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s been looking for you,” Abby chides.</p><p> </p><p>“She can’t be all the way over here,” Bellamy snarls. “Do you know how many guards there are over here? They’d probably step on her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mia would put up a fight. Apparently, she’s been trying to see you for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy swallows thickly, glancing at Mia. She focuses herself on the pattern of his jacket, tracing her fingers over the material in awe. He purses his lips, refraining from breaking out into another smile. He adjusts Mia on his hip, ensuring that she’s comfortable before glancing back at Abby with a stoic expression.</p><p> </p><p>“I saw her a couple days ago,” Bellamy grumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Abby shrugs. “But Clarke says whenever they walk by your hall, Mia squeals in that direction.”</p><p> </p><p>He stiffens. There should be a red alarm telling him not to ask, and there most definitely is one blaring in his head, but the words tumble from his lips anyways. “I’m sure that’s the only thing she said.”</p><p> </p><p>Abby tilts her head to the side, smiling sadly, “I’m sure you could ask her yourself.” Bellamy doesn’t say anything, just stares back at Abby with a blank expression, hyperaware of Clarke’s daughter in his grasp. Abby steps closer, “Clarke’s out of the meeting in–”</p><p> </p><p>“An hour,” Bellamy finishes for her. “I know. Miller’s there right now, they’re talking about the upcoming coalition meeting.”</p><p> </p><p>“They are,” Abby nods. “It’s the first one since Clarke’s moved back here.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy knows that.</p><p> </p><p>Mia giggles in his ear, and he swivels his head around at her to catch her pointing her finger at his face. Confusion settles across his features for a moment, only making Mia squeal more. She presses her finger against his cheekbone, dragging her hand over his array of freckles. Bellamy can’t resist the smile that graces his lips, allowing Mia to find solace in the pattern of his skin to distract both of them from the reality that stands before them.</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke’s going to bring Mia.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy snaps his head towards Abby, eyebrows furrowing together sharply. “What? Why the hell would she bring an infant to a meeting with the region’s most dangerous war criminals?”</p><p> </p><p>“It was the Queen’s request,” Abby sighs deeply. “A part of their agreement, for allowing them to live here. Mia is still Ice Nation, whether she resides there or not.”</p><p> </p><p>Mia is blissfully unaware of the power she holds in maintaining the peace between the coalition. There’s an ache in Bellamy, or maybe an obligation, yearning to take that burden from her. She hasn’t even been alive for a year, and yet, this is what she means to people. A bridge between war and peace, just like her mother.</p><p> </p><p>It disgusted Bellamy when it was only Clarke being used as a pawn for peace. People just naturally looked up to her for everything, gravitated towards her logic and poise. While he likes to think it didn’t have an effect on him, having her choose him as her greatest confidant was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. On the Ark, he was a brother, a guard, a janitor. Down on the ground, with her, he was a leader, a friend, a <em>person</em>. And to him, Clarke was all that and so much more.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke could be a different person for anybody, but he knows that she was <em>her </em>with him. Not the leader of the Sky People, not Wanheda, not the Queen of Ice Nation – Clarke Griffin, in all her glory, was just herself with Bellamy Blake. That’s what killed him the most about her leaving; her abandoning not only him, but any semblance of herself.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe there was nothing Bellamy could do to stop Clarke from walking down the aisle that day. No declaration of love, or desperate cry may have prevented her from leaving him, for God knows how many times. But glancing at Mia, her sheltered exterior melting in his grasp, he thinks; just maybe, he can help her.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The coalition meeting is a two day event. It takes them at least eight hours to travel down to Polis, meaning that everyone is to leave at the crack of dawn. Bellamy is awake well before they’re supposed to leave, sauntering into the garage in a timely manner, just as some fellow guardsmen are loading up the rover.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke stands between her mother and Kane, Mia bouncing on her hip, engaged in some meaningless small talk to calm down the nerves settling in the air. She catches Bellamy’s eye just as he waltzes past her, and he notes the surprised look in her eye just before he reaches the rest of the guards loading cargo. He hears her shuffle behind him, handing Mia off to Abby before the patter of her footsteps seep into his ear.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy bends down to grab the box of their weapons just as he feels her brush up beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Miller?” Clarke demands.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello to you, too,” Bellamy muses, lifting the box with a huff before heaving it into the back of the rover.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean it, Bellamy. We’ve been discussing protocols with him for weeks.”</p><p> </p><p>“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m his boss. I made those protocols.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy secures the box in the rover before turning back to Clarke. She’s nervous already, he can tell by the tick in her brow. She purses her lips tightly at him, working an argument over in her head before he can muster out some snarky remark. He has no intention to bite one out, and Clarke must sense that, because she softens the slightest bit. Her shoulders relax and her lips fall into their resting position, and as she unravels before him, Bellamy tenses.</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, he can see Clarke Griffin standing before him. And just as quickly as it appears, it disappears, Clarke straightening her posture and tipping her head up towards him like he’s just another one of the guardsmen. It makes a smirk grow across his lips, one that’s sure to bring her irritation as her eyebrows furrow. Her façade is okay with him, for now. He’s already seen it fall.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Clarke settles with, like she’s the deciding factor. “But hurry it up. We can’t be late.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke saunters away before Bellamy can muster a snarky remark. <em>Damn</em>. He had one in mind this time.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Coalition meetings are the perfect mask of peace. Nothing real or tangible can be detected from it, everyone just puts on their bravest, fakest, warmest greetings and pretends that they’re old colleagues; not former enemies on opposing lines of war. It’s part of the reason why Bellamy hates them so much, he’s never had an inkling for putting up a front with people he doesn’t like. He doesn’t really have a need to, now that he’s not hiding a little sister under the floor.</p><p> </p><p>The first couple of times Bellamy attended these meetings, he’d just look for Clarke and stay by her the whole time. Of course, he had a job to do, ensuring that everyone wasn’t going to start kill each other and if they were, that his people were protected. But when he could, he’d be with Clarke, trying to take up all the time with her that he could until proper duties called her name or if her husband whisked her away.</p><p> </p><p>Roan and Clarke’s marriage was the first one to actually produce a child, so everyone is swarming Mia the minute they waltz into the Polis tower. All armed with nothing but the plasticity of smiles and traditional Grounder greetings, there’s still an uncomfortable feeling that settles in Bellamy’s chest. The moment the first grounder – the leader of Floukru, Bellamy thinks – steps forward to say their hello’s to Mia, he surges in front of Clarke, shielding her and her daughter from the growing crowd.</p><p> </p><p>“Back up,” Bellamy barks. Everyone stares at him in surprise, and he’s most certain that he definitely disrupted some weird Grounder tradition that nobody informed him of. “You can say your hello’s after dinner, at the commencement.”</p><p> </p><p>The heated stares don’t dwindle, but everyone begrudgingly gives Skaikru their space. Grumbles litter amongst the crowd as they dissipate into their own circles of people. Breath returns to Bellamy’s lungs, and he turns around to check in on Clarke and Mia.</p><p> </p><p>Mia rests her head against her mother’s shoulder, seemingly drifting off, but Clarke’s eyes are locked on him. She lets out a breath, and gives him a small smile. He tips his head to her in acknowledgment, a half-smile taking up his own features.</p><p> </p><p>He directs Clarke, along with the rest of the people from Arkadia to the long table already aligned with trays of food. The smell is the most reassuring part about this place, all freshly cooked meat with steamy brewed stews. Clarke settles into the chair towards the middle of the table, on the borderline of Skaikru’s seating and Azgeda’s. Bellamy gulps, but doesn’t refute the choice in seating, sitting down on her opposite end.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone finds their seats shortly after, Kane and Abby finding themselves alongside Bellamy in accordance with the rest of their people. Across from Bellamy and Clarke, Azgeda begins to fill their seats. They all murmur their greetings to Clarke and Mia, all surprisingly polite despite the customs Bellamy’s witnessed them practice. Clarke is gracious to them in response, but out of her peripheral, she’s always checking on Bellamy, ensuring he is as calm as she needs him to be.</p><p> </p><p>It’s only when Echo arrives, her henchmen at her side, that Bellamy stiffens. He straightens in his chair, and purposely locks eyes with her. Echo is none the less intimidated, the ends of her lips quirking upwards at the sight of him. Instead of sinking down into the seat across from Clarke, she sits down directly in front of Bellamy, folding her hands before her.</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke,” Echo turns her head to her with a curt bow. Clarke returns the gesture as Echo’s gaze drops to Mia dozing off in her mother’s lap. “She looks more like Roan than she did last.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy has to physically restrain himself from scoffing. Although it’s not an insult, it certainly feels like one. Almost as if Echo thinks she knows Clarke and Mia better than he does. Maybe Mia’s has Roan’s eyes, but that’s pretty much it. Everything else, aside from her previous temperament in Clarke’s. The tuffs of blonde hair, the paleness of her skin, even her mannerisms remind Bellamy of her mother.</p><p> </p><p>“She does,” Clarke agrees anyways, smoothening her hand through Mia’s strands of air. “Acts like him, too.”</p><p> </p><p>The fakeness of her voice sends shivers down Bellamy’s spine, but brings a knowing smile to Echo’s lips. She turns her attention towards Bellamy, and that smile morphs into a smirk, already adding to his irritation.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” she greets. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at one of these meetings.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s an undeniable urge for him to say something along the lines of: <em>Last time I really saw you, you betrayed me and blew up my girlfriend and the rest of my people in Mount Weather</em>. Despite it being years ago, the strength of the coalition, and the trust Clarke has helped instill in Ice Nation, there will never be a flicker of reassurance inside of Bellamy when he looks at Echo. Now the Queen of Ice Nation, nonetheless, which is even more nerve wracking than anything she could do when she was following orders.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stays silent, because he doesn’t know what else to do other than offend her in front of the rest of the coalition. He just stares, a darkness in his eyes that he knows he shouldn’t have. Echo feeds off this, her smirk growing across her lips. It’s only when the soft touch of fingertips graze his arm that he breaks his stare, turning his attention to Clarke at his side.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s eyes plead for him. It’s a mixture of desperation and reassurance, but the line of trust is there. She instills it within him, silently tells him she understands, she knows. They just have to get through this night, and then one more day with formal meetings, and it will be over. Until the next one. And in that moment, Bellamy swears to accompany her to that one, too, in addition to any single meeting her heart wishes to attend.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tips his head in understanding, before looking back at Echo. Her eyes are on Clarke’s hand on Bellamy’s wrist, until she notices him staring at her. Echo’s gaze flickers up, and her smirk is gone, replaced with a placid frown.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Dinner goes by smoothly; it usually does. None of the chaos really starts until the next day when everyone’s discussing policies and trades, so Bellamy takes the time to enjoy the only decent food he’s had in months. The chefs in Arkadia only had to prepare rations for centuries, so they really don’t know how to cook like the Grounders do – he’ll give them that.</p><p> </p><p>Mia sleeps soundly in Clarke’s lap, and a lot of the other coalition members take time doting on her. Clarke never passes her to anyone, but brushes out Mia’s hair and laughs a long to compliments like she’s still a trophy wife. And when she receives condolences about her husband’s death, she reserves her response to a curt nod and a thank you. Each interaction that passes, no matter the negative or positive connotation, she squeezes Bellamy’s wrist a little tighter.</p><p> </p><p>By the time the sun sets, everyone’s ushered to their coordinated rooms for the night. Skaikru’s room are in the same wing as Ice Nation’s, which always has Bellamy on edge, but even more so now that Clarke is no longer their queen. Echo’s been sending them sideways glances all night, which seemingly hasn’t bothered Clarke. In all honestly, it doesn’t bother him as much as it makes him suspicious. Echo always has something in her mind, and it’s never anything useful or good.</p><p> </p><p>“My room is right down the hall if you need anything,” Kane points to the wooden door just a couple of feet down from Bellamy’s designated room.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nods, “I’ll be fine, Kane. I’m on first watch, and then Monty is going to take shift.”</p><p> </p><p>Kane mulls this over. The brief pause and look of indignation on his face tells Bellamy there’s more to his spiel here, and he’s already dreading it. “I’m aware you can handle our people, Bellamy. I mean, if any of this becomes too overwhelming for you–”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got it,” Bellamy confirms shortly.</p><p> </p><p>Tightening his smile, Kane nods, not so much in defeat as much as it is acceptance. He steps away from Bellamy, saying his goodnights to him in return before waltzing down the hall to his room. The moment Kane slips into his room is when Clarke comes down the hall, Mia in her grasp and Abby at her side.</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t I sleep with you and Mia tonight?” Bellamy hears Abby ponder from down the hall.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve slept in the tower before, for all of the past coalition meetings,” Clarke points out with a huff. “It’s not so different now.”</p><p> </p><p>“But Roan–”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke suddenly catches sight of Bellamy, standing near his post towards the end of the hall. He ducks his head, tries not to make it look like he was eavesdropping, but Clarke definitely already knows he was. He tips his head back up to meet her insistent gaze, a small smile on her lips. He returns the smile with the bow of his head.</p><p> </p><p>Turning back to her mother, Clarke adjusts Mia on her hip, still sound asleep. “I’ll be fine, Mom. Go, get some rest.”</p><p> </p><p>Abby sighs, but seemingly agrees. She leans in to kiss her daughter’s cheek, gently smoothening out Mia’s tuff of hair, before turning to walk down the hall. She nods to Bellamy, and he tips his head back in acknowledgment, not even watching her walk down the hall before he turns back to Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been holding her all night,” Bellamy chides with a smirk. “How have your arms not fallen off?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, they’re about to,” Clarke huffs. She pauses, surveying over his stance for a moment. “You’re the first one on shift?” Bellamy nods. “For how long?”</p><p> </p><p>“Three hours,” Bellamy shrugs. Clarke takes in the answer, swaying back and forth on her hips with Mia still in her grasp. She gnaws at her bottom lip, a look of uncertainty displayed across her features as she locks eyes with him. He gives her a reassuring smile. “My room is right down the hall, beside your mother and Kane’s. If you need me.”</p><p> </p><p><em>If she needs me</em>. There used to be a time that Bellamy knew without question that she did. He knew it just as securely that he knew he needed her. And now, he’s almost fearful of her reaction to it. So much time has passed since they’ve had that dependency on one another, and yet Bellamy craves it more than anything in the world. He doesn’t even know if there’s a whim of hers that yearns for that same connection. Not with her past life behind her and daughter on her hip.</p><p> </p><p>But there’s a flicker of relief in her gaze that Bellamy catches, that he relishes in. The softness of her expression, the tranquility that washes over her just for a moment. It lasts longer than it did before, and this time she replaces it with a knowing smile. That, he can take solace in.</p><p> </p><p>“I will let you know,” Clarke assures him. Mia squirms in her grasp, and she presses a kiss to the top of her head in response. Her gaze flickers back up to him, “Goodnight, Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke whisks down the hall, entering her bedroom and carefully shuts the door behind her. Bellamy remains still, ears straining to hear any sort of disturbance in her room. No sounds emit from there, so he reserves himself to the gentle quiet of the Polis tower as people file in for the night. All of which, he stays focused, ensuring that if Clarke does need him, he’s ready and available.</p><p> </p><p>The night slips by uneventfully, not to Bellamy chagrin. Monty takes over his post promptly, but Bellamy lingers, just for a while longer. He knows it’s sheepish of him to be waiting for Clarke, who’s probably taking advantage of Mia’s deep sleep to rest on her own, but he does it, anyway. Just in case she needs him.</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, Monty urges him to go to bed. And truly, Bellamy has every intention to. He even steps towards his room, just a couple of feet away. Until a door creaks open behind him, hitting his ears like electricity. Jolting around, Clarke stands before him, a night dress slipped over her body.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy gulps, the white silk of her nightgown complimenting the blonde of her locks that cascade over her shoulders. He tries to keep his voice even. “Clarke. Is everything okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Clarke nods. “Are you off shift?”</p><p> </p><p>“I am,” Bellamy confirms. His palms grow sweaty.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke pauses. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>He’s still in his guard uniform. Sure, there’s a shirt underneath the jacket and some briefs under his cargo pants, but nothing that solidifies nightwear. His room is just a couple of feet away, he could grab his clothes for bed and then come accompany her in her room. But instead, he silently lets his feet guide him towards Clarke’s room, fully dressed in his uniform and weapon secured in the back of his waistband.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shuts the door behind him as Bellamy removes the waistband and aligns it near the door. The makeshift crib is near the window, Mia’s soft breaths filling the empty room. Across the room, is a bed full of feathers and animal skinned pillows. It’s much fancier than any room he or the rest of their people were given, but he guesses Clarke still has some perks from her former Queen status.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy removes his jacket and hangs it over the handle as Clarke brushes past him. His head swivels to her, her long, creamy legs bringing her to the bed. He rubs the palms off his hands on his cargo pants, trying to rid of the sweat that’s built up just as Clarke sinks onto the mattress. He watches throat going dry, as she twists her body to lay on her side, tucking her hands under her head and never once breaking her gaze from him.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you lay with me?” Clarke asks, so timid that his heart nearly convulses.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy doesn’t say anything, but he obliges. He doesn’t rid of his cargo pants, but he walks around to the opposite side of the bed and climbs on top of it. Clarke doesn’t turn to face him, and for a moment, he just lays his head on the pillow next to hers. He lays flat on his back, but his cheek is pressed against the pillow, giving him an ample view of the flow of Clarke’s locks and the canvas of her back. He can hear his heart thumping in his chest, and he wonders if she can hear it, too.</p><p> </p><p>They’ve shared a bed before. Just recently. And yet, it’s like the weight of fate hangs over them, dangling something so precious and fragile and daring them to break it. Bellamy yearns to smash it to pieces, take her in his arms and then right here in this bed. But this is not the night, not in the tower of Polis, not with her daughter asleep just a couple of feet away, not with all the words spoken and those left unsaid still hang in the air, uncompleted.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shifts in her position, scooting a little closer to him. Her bottom scrapes against his thigh, and he gulps down. To accommodate her, Bellamy shifts as well, finding the courage to press his torso against her back and wrap his arms around her. Clarke sinks into his embrace, and his head goes to duck into her neck. They lay there for a moment, completely still, wrapped in each other’s embrace. The hotness of his breath imprints into her skin, and his lips just barely graze her neck. All it would take is for him to place his mouth just an inch closer–</p><p> </p><p>However, Bellamy doesn’t get the chance to. Clarke shifts, grazing his crotch as she does so. He suppresses a moan as she turns her body to face him. Her nose brushes against his, eyes intently on his, lips just an inch away. He can feel her breath on his lips, her fingers grazing up his forearms, her legs sliding against his. His breath hitches, and he struggles to keep his eyes locked on her as his vision grows blurry.</p><p> </p><p>“I missed you,” she says, and it kills him.</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke–” he’s not sure if he can take this right now.</p><p> </p><p>“Knowing you were okay, knowing you were alive…it was the only thing that kept me going most days.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t okay. Not without you.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you were alive. You could find the happiness that I was never destined to give you.”</p><p> </p><p>“How do you know that? Why don’t you think it could have been us?” Bellamy tries to keep his voice at a leveled whisper, but it breaks amidst the tears collecting in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s hand snakes up to gently graze his curls. There’s tears in her own eyes, one that slides down her temple. “I wanted it to be. So badly, Bellamy. But it wasn’t our time then.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t love me then,” Bellamy tries to draw back from her, but Clarke holds onto his curls, keeps him looking at her.</p><p> </p><p>“I loved you then. I love you now. I <em>love you</em>,” Clarke cries.</p><p> </p><p><em>Not enough</em>, Bellamy wants to shout. But the words don’t slip from his lips, nor do they form on his tongue, because he crashes his lips against Clarke’s in a hard, insistent kiss. Clarke tightens her grip on his curls, bringing him impossibly closer. She brings her leg up to wrap over his torso, as Bellamy holds the small of her back. He deepens the kiss, allowing her tongue to seep into his mouth, finding solace in every part of her touch.</p><p> </p><p>Kissing Clarke is something he’s thought about for years. First just a passing thought when they were scavenging supplies for camp, and then a wish when she pressed her lips against his cheek after Mount Weather, and a desire in seeing her for the first time in three months after she left Camp Jaha, and now, a saving grace. Everything crumbling and falling apart sewn back together by those three words and the softness of her lips against his. It consumes him, buries him in a pile of overwhelming emotions that he couldn’t be more grateful for.</p><p> </p><p>Their kiss loses its intensity after a bit, both of them becoming aware of their surroundings. Despite the desperate ache in both of their bodies, Clarke grinding down against Bellamy’s thigh, the kiss morphs into soft, slow cascading movements. It causes his heart to ache just as much, but it gives him the edge he needs to keep them both at bay. He’d let her kiss him the whole night, if that’s what she wanted. If he would have it his way, they’d be like this forever.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke’s fast asleep when the sunlight streams through the window, casting an early morning glow over the bed. It’s his signal to get up and start rounding the guards for a day of intense verbal arguments and preventing physical ones, but there’s nothing more demotivating than lying in bed beside Clarke, her limbs entangled in his own. Her head lays peacefully on his chest, cheek pressed against his heart, hand lining the base of his neck. Her breath hits his skin, now bare since the removal of his shirt, and he sinks a little further into the mattress.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy switches his gaze to Mia, still asleep in the crib. The beam of sunlight cascades right over, but creates a glow that illuminates her in the corner of the room. The ends of his lips twitch upwards, and he remembers why they’re here – to keep the peace, for their people, for their children – like Mia. It’s enough for him to press a kiss to Clarke’s forehead and rise to his feet, changing into his uniform as quietly as possibly as to not wake either of the girls.</p><p> </p><p>That sinking feeling returns in Bellamy’s chest, albeit he tries his best to ignore it. He buckles up the waistband around his pants, ensures his weapon is secure, and quietly creaks open the door. He closes it behind him slowly, waiting until he hears the clasp of the lock before he breathes out a sigh of relief. Last night doesn’t even seem real.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>And that sure doesn’t help. Bellamy turns, dreading to see Echo standing at the opposite end of the hall. He should have been a little more cautious, especially knowing that this is the wing they share with Ice Nation. And yet, he wasn’t, and Echo is staring at him accusatorily from down the hall.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy straightens his posture, lips forming a tight line as Echo saunters towards him. She doesn’t have any of her traditional Queen attire on, no makeup or fancy clothes. She’s bare, almost like she was that time he saved her in Mount Weather, another instance of loyalty that she proved had little to no sway on her conscience. The slickness of her black pants and casual white shirt almost make her look like a normal person, not the heartless, vile witch he knows she is.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s Clarke’s room, is it not?” Echo observes, glancing at the door to Clarke’s room. Bellamy bites down on his tongue. A faint smirk appears on her lips. “I told Roan he should worry about you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bellamy growls.</p><p> </p><p>“Your loyalty to Clarke goes beyond partnership. I could see that the first time I saw you two together.”</p><p> </p><p>“After you blew up Mount Weather?”</p><p> </p><p>“During,” Echo corrects with a shrug. “I mention Clarke being in trouble and you abandon everything and everyone to ruin to her aid.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did that for all of my people,” Bellamy snarls, eyes darkening.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe. But I was still right. Clarke would talk about you all the time. She tried to restrain herself, only talk about you when we were discussing business with Skaikru. But somehow, you were always brought up.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy doesn’t want to think about himself occupying Clarke’s mind during her time with Ice Nation. He hates to think she was just as miserable as he was for so long, despite the love and adoration he was immersed in just hours ago. If only he could have done something differently.</p><p> </p><p>“Roan agreed you’d be an issue, but you were never around,” Echo tilts her head towards Bellamy in analyzation. “I think he saw more than I did.”</p><p> </p><p>Roan pushing him to the ground while Bellamy was too busy marveling at Clarke’s presence all those years ago. He’d been so wrapped up in being the one to save her, that Roan swooped in and captured her once more, right under his nose. And then, he’d done it a second time, right before Bellamy’s eyes when he married Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want something, Echo?” Bellamy snaps, those unforgiving memories painfully kneading into his brain.</p><p> </p><p>Echo straightens, almost surprised by his outburst, but seeming just as amused. “Did Clarke tell you why she left after Roan died?”</p><p> </p><p>“Roan told her she could,” Bellamy supplies.</p><p> </p><p>“He did. Make me swear not to harm her or the child, and to check in on Mia from time to time. But she begged him to let her go.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stiffens. Echo intends to elaborate more, but he feels still in his movements; no blinking, limbs shackled, heart on pause. He tries not to picture Clarke in a fit of sobs, begging her dying husband to allow her to return home, but it ingrains into his mind, brings goosebumps to his skin.</p><p> </p><p>“You hadn’t seen her for a year. She feared she’d never be able to visit with Mia. Conjured up a whole plan to have me as Queen and keep the balance of everything in order. And <em>begged him</em>. She begged Roan to go back to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you telling me this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because she did me a favor. I’m the Queen,” the way the words slick from Echo’s mouth indicates this is anything but something she’s doing out of the kindness of her heart. “And I owe you one. Now that I can afford to do so.”</p><p> </p><p>Echo barely gives him time to think of a response. She swivels on her heel and swiftly walks down the hall, leaving Bellamy still in his wake. His eyes are glued to the end of the hall, not even shifting when Echo disappears back into her room. He stands there, a mixture of irritation, anger, desperation, and utter relief swirling inside of him. He’s not sure if this is something to find resentment in or rejoice in, but both thoughts cement him in place nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>It’s only when Kane exits from his room that Bellamy puts himself into autopilot. His mind is anywhere but at this fucking coalition meeting, but if there’s one thing he can do, is to make it through the day. Not just for him, but for the two most important people in his life, that remain behind that door until the day begins.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy walks Clarke and Mia back to their quarters once they return to Arkadia that night. Mia had been wide awake the whole ride back, bouncing in between her mother and Bellamy, before eventually settling with the latter. By the time they reached Arkadia, Bellamy found he didn’t really want to allow the two to venture back on their own, despite them being fully capable. He waltzes through the door with Mia half-asleep on his shoulder and Clarke trotting behind them.</p><p> </p><p>“No mass casualties,” Clarke comments as they tread into Mia’s room.</p><p> </p><p>“Surprise, surprise,” Bellamy quips softly, heat pooling his chest when he hears Clarke’s faint giggle from behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Mia yawns, curling closer into Bellamy’s chest as he etches towards the crib. The family units come with a pretty sturdy one, along with a single room for the child. It’s not very spacious, there’s barely enough room for the three of them, but it’s a cozy type of comfort. Clarke stands in the doorway as Bellamy gently attempts to set Mia down in the crib. She whines, instantly reaching back out for him.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re her new favorite,” Clarke muses. “I’m a little jealous.”</p><p> </p><p>“You should be,” Bellamy murmurs quietly, setting Mia back down in the crib. He runs his hand over the tuffs of her hair, Mia’s whimpers subsiding as she sinks into the mattress of her crib. He turns back to Clarke with a wolfish grin, “Kids love me.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke rolls her eyes, stepping forward to stand beside him at the gate of the crib. She grips the wooden bar, before bending over and planting a soft kiss on top of Mia’s head. Her daughter hums happily, her eyes fluttering closed after weighing so heavily on her. Bellamy and Clarke just stand there for a moment, staring at this tiny infant before them. Mia’s chest begins to rise and fall slowly, and Bellamy’s heart begins to ache.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy takes a step back, a little to abruptly. He earns Clarke’s attention, her whipping her head around with the quirk of her eyebrow. He scrubs his hand over his face to ground him back to reality, but he suddenly feels the claustrophobic effects of being in this room, and takes another step back. Clarke angles her body towards him, confusion written across her features. She opens her mouth to ask what’s wrong, and Bellamy turns, marching out of the room.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s on his heels, storming after him with quiet steps as to not wake Mia. She gently closes the door behind her as Bellamy stands idly in the common room of their quarters, the section a little more spacious, but still weighing on him just as heavy. Echo’s words from this morning riddles his head, and although she’s no person to trust, Clarke is. And the only thing heavier on his mind is the two of them last night, wrapped up in one another with declarations of <em>I love you</em>’s and unspoken promises.</p><p> </p><p>And maybe, if that hadn’t happened, Bellamy wouldn’t be standing here now. There’s a lot of instances, that Bellamy can think of now, that he could have done to change the outcome of things. But staring at Mia in that crib, and gazing at Clarke now, he’s not sure there’s anything he should have done.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy, what’s going on?” Clarke asks tentatively.</p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have said what I did the other day,” Bellamy spits out. Clarke eyebrows furrow together, and he elaborates, “About Mia being mine. She’s not. She won’t ever be.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s confusion morphs into a softened expression. She pauses, ruminating on his statement. This time, she’s not calculating her words, trying to say the most logical sentence she can think of. She soaks in his words and nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Just because you’re not her father, doesn’t mean you’re not important to her.” Clarke says softly. “Mia doesn’t like many people. She barely likes my mom. But she loves you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not setting out to replace Roan.”</p><p> </p><p>“I never wanted you to be Roan.”</p><p> </p><p>Quiet consumes the living space of Clarke’s quarters. All Bellamy can hear is the sound of his own breathing, heavy and hearty in his ears and chest. Clarke stares at him, pleading for him to believe her. He’s never had a problem believing in her. With everything Clarke does, there’s no doubt in his mind that she does it to the fullest extent, past the point of completion. It’s what felt so permanent about her leaving, for the second time.</p><p> </p><p>“I never thought you’d come back,” Bellamy’s afraid if his voice goes any above a whisper, it’ll break. “When you married Roan, I thought, maybe. Maybe one day, things will change. And then, it could be us.” Tears spring to his eyes, mirror the shimmer in Clarke’s. “And then I saw your stomach at that coalition meeting…”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke allows Bellamy to trail off, collect himself. She inhales deeply before heaving out an exhale, trying to ground herself as she stares at Bellamy’s stiffened frame. He knows he has to continue. This has gone on too long for him to leave anything unsaid this time. This time, he won’t be too late.</p><p> </p><p>“I never thought you’d come back.” Bellamy repeats, solidifying his stance. “And seeing you start a family with him nearly killed me. I stopped going to the coalition meetings, and I stopped thinking about you. Or, I tried to stop.”</p><p> </p><p>“I never stopped.” Clarke surges forward, lacing her fingers over Bellamy’s wrist. He forces himself to look at her, despite the tears that trail down his cheeks. “I thought about you every single day. I regret not telling you I loved you that day, Bellamy. I’ve done a lot of horrible things, but that is something that I <em>never stop thinking about</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy quiets, a wave of relief washing over him and seeping into his torn apart heart. It stings like salt water, but it’s almost as if he can feel it heal in that moment with Clarke’s touch and her stare and her presence. Her hands snake up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against the tear that slides down.</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t ready to say it before,” Clarke whispers. “So much had happened. Mount Weather, Lexa, the City of Light, Octavia, the wedding…I couldn’t be anyone aside from Wanheda, or the leader of the Sky People, or the Chancellor, or the<em>fucking </em>Queen of Ice Nation. I couldn’t be the woman who deserves to be with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve always been Clarke to me. All I’ve ever wanted was you. All I <em>need</em> is <em>you</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I can give that to you. I’m here to stay, Bellamy. Here, in Arkadia, with you. I can’t erase the past–”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t want you to,” Bellamy interrupts with the shake of his head. “Not if it meant we couldn’t have Mia.” Clarke stills, gazing up at him with those blue eyes. “She’s not mine. But I’ll take care of her like she is. If you’d let me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mia’s a good judge of character,” Clarke breathes with an airy laugh. “She knows how special you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, right. She hated me.”</p><p> </p><p>“So did I, at first.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy grins, reaching his hand up to brush a strand of hair behind Clarke’s ear. He pauses his hand at her cheek, cupping his hand over her skin to admire her fully. “I love you so much.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you,” Clarke cries.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rests his forehead against Clarke’s, the hotness of their breaths colliding against one another’s skin. Her hands stay firm on his cheeks as he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to him. Her touch is warm, and inviting and feels more like home than all of Arkadia ever has.</p><p> </p><p>He leans in, brushing his lips against hers in a painfully slow kiss. Clarke eagerly reciprocates, enveloping her lips with her own and snaking her hands around his neck to pull him closer. Bellamy sprawls the palms of his hands against her upper back to push her closer to him, deepening his mouth against hers. He melts into her, almost as if their bodies merge into one with the connection of their lips.</p><p> </p><p>This kiss is different from the one they shared the previous night. Instead of pure heat morphing into a slow melt of kisses, Bellamy attaches his mouth to hers like she’s the last source of viable air. That if they dare to part, for even a second, the world comes crashing down on them once again, tearing them apart for entirety. And there’s not one more second that Bellamy will ever have away from Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke squeals as Bellamy lifts her into his arms, wrapping her legs around her torso. He’s more than grateful to himself for nabbing this family unit for her as he whisks her off to her secluded bedroom. It’s just as small, but he wouldn’t mind if some greater force fused them together right now. He never breaks their kiss as he lays her on the bed, deepening his mouth against hers and slicking his tongue into her mouth, desperate to taste every part of her.</p><p> </p><p>“I want you forever.” Bellamy murmurs against her lips.</p><p> </p><p>“You have me forever.” Clarke promises.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy forces himself to tear his lips away from her to crawl down her torso. He lifts the hem of her top up her stomach, kissing the softness of her belly and trailing upwards, the shirt raising high with every touch of his lips. Bunching her shirt above her breasts, Bellamy wastes no time in pulling down her bra, mounting his mouth to her nipple. Clarke tries to suppress her moan as Bellamy swirls his tongue around her nipple before suckling lightly, using his hand to palm her neglected breast. Before he switches to the other nipple, he presses a quick kiss to Clarke’s lips, unable to get enough her mouth, before settling on the opposite breast.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke jerks her hips upwards, grinding against his crotch in a desperate plea for him. He inserts his thigh in between her legs for her to grind down on as he pays attention to her lavish breasts. She takes advantage, smoothening her covered cunt against his upper thigh as Bellamy works his tongue around her nipple. He only stops when she grabs a fistful of his hair, yanking him upwards and crashing his lips against hers.</p><p> </p><p>He never breaks apart their lips as he helps her wiggle out of her pants. Pressing one hard kiss to her lips as a parting gift, he hooks his fingers around her panties and yanks them down to her ankles. They’re barely off her feet before he’s kissing down her neck, trailing back down her stomach before he reaches the base of her pussy. The cry that escapes her lips when Bellamy starts mouthing at her clit is the most ethereal sound he’s ever heard.</p><p> </p><p>“There you go, love.” Bellamy hums against her clit. He clicks his tongue against it as he pushes two fingers inside of her. “There you go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Bellamy,” Clarke sighs, lacing her fingers in between curls and urging him forward. “Fuck, Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Almost there,” Bellamy muses, quickening the pace of his fingers inside of her. He encloses his mouth around her clit, sucking hard as Clarke does a poor attempt of suppressing her moans.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke comes on his mouth, but he keeps his lips on her clit and fingers slowly thrusting in and out of her as she rides out her orgasm. The aftershocks flow through Clarke, and she arches her back just to get closer towards Bellamy’s mouth. It’s only when she collapses against the bed that Bellamy removes his fingers from her, but never allows his mouth to leave her body. He drags his lips along her body, the slickness of her cunt trailing along her skin before he finally surges her mouth in his.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rids of his jacket and shirt rather quickly, throwing it over his head and discarding it somewhere in the room, attaching his lips right back onto Clarke. He thinks he may be addicted to kissing Clarke. Now that he’s had a taste of her, it’s all he’s ever going to want to do.</p><p> </p><p>His pants follow suit, this time with Clarke’s aid. His boxers come down with it, his cock springing from its restraints. Clarke detaches her lips for a brief moment, just to gaze at the length of him. She marvels at his cock, and reaches her hand out to work him in her palm. An overwhelming sense of pleasure festers inside Bellamy, and he gasps out, leaning his forehead against Clarke’s as she runs her hand up and down his shaft.</p><p> </p><p>“I love how you touch me,” he breathes.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so hard for me,” Clarke marvels.</p><p> </p><p>“All for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy surges his lips in hers once more, desperately deepening his mouth against her. He grabs her hand on his cock and pins it down against the pillow, using his hips to rub the head of him against her clit. She whimpers into his lips, and he uses his free hand to guide his cock against her entrance.</p><p> </p><p>“My God,” Bellamy moans as he slips inside of her. He feels like he could be on another plane of existence being inside of Clarke, the feeling so surreal it just can’t be true. “Fuck, Clarke. <em>Fuck.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke moans as he slowly pulls in and out of her. He lets her adjust to the size of him, relishing in being able to have her like this. Only when Clarke wraps her legs around his torso, urging him forward, does he pick up the pace. He crashes his lips against Clarke once more, thrusting in and out of her with a precise, wild rhythm. Using his thumb to trace circles around her clit, he builds her up as he reaches his climax, determined to come only when she does.</p><p> </p><p>“I need you to come for me, Clarke.” Bellamy begs. “Come on, love.”</p><p> </p><p>“I–I’m going to come,” Clarke stammers against his lips. She nods her head rapidly, never once breaking the kiss. “I’m going to, I’m going to.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy snaps his hips against hers, quickening his pace around her clit. She moans into his mouth as she comes, the vibrations from her lips and pussy sending him over the edge. He anchors himself inside of her, never once detaching his lips from hers. Even as he pulls out of her, he kisses her softly, trailing down from her lips to her neck as he lays beside her.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke ghosts her fingers up and down his forearm, trying to catch her breath. She curls up next to him, and Bellamy takes her into his arm, allowing her head to rest against his thumping heart as she does so. He runs his fingers through her hair, their breaths syncing with one another as their limbs intertwine. He holds her closer, still afraid that if he loosens his grip, she’ll slip through his fingers, again.</p><p> </p><p>But then again, Clarke’s always had a tendency to read him like nobody else. She lifts her head, managing to keep her cheek pressed against his chest. She leans up, tracing her fingers down his cheek and jaw, down his throat and then down his chest, before she intertwines their fingers. Bellamy can’t stop looking at her, bare and pressed against his chest with a soft smile on her beautiful features.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here,” she assures him. “I’m right here.”</p><p> </p><p>He captures her lips in one more savory kiss before resting his forehead against hers. She lightly kisses his jaw in response, tightening her grip on his hand as he holds her closer to him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy takes solace in those words, in the promise that she’s here – and that he’ll always be wherever she decides to go.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Mia loves the snow more than she loves the grass. Bellamy learns this when she takes her first steps in the middle of the first snowfall of the year. And by the time she’s walking, she’s stumbling, throwing her body into the heaps of snow with a fit of giggles. But each time, she stands back up, either on her own accord or with Bellamy’s help, and runs as fast as her weak, little legs will allow her to go.</p><p> </p><p>Before Mia hits the ground for the millionth time, Bellamy scoops her up, swinging her into his arms and earning another round of laughter from the one year old. He blows raspberries on the snowsuit over her belly before carrying her back over to her mother, sitting in the snow and watching the two enjoy the chilly weather.</p><p> </p><p>Mia tumbles into her mother’s arms, and Clarke welcomes her with a warm embrace. “You love to run, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sinks into the snow beside the two of them as Mia settles into Clarke’s lap. She busies herself with the heaps of snow that she can collect onto her mittens as Bellamy leans over and presses a kiss to Clarke’s lips. They’re cold and icy from being outside for a little over an hour, but the warmth that seeps into his chest almost eliminates the winter weather from existence. He smiles into her lips before pulling away.</p><p> </p><p>Mia turns towards Bellamy, propping herself up on his leg as she presents a cluster of snow to him. It sits in a clumpy mess on her hand, but he takes it from her with a gracious grin anyways, before planting a quick kiss on her nose. Mia gazes up at him with her big, blue eyes, that almost blend into the snow laying across the ground. While Clarke’s eyes resemble the sky, blue and endless, Mia’s tells the story of the ground, icy and endless.</p><p> </p><p>Gleefully, Mia accepts the token of affection before turning back to patter in the snow. A giggle escapes Clarke’s lips as Bellamy wraps his arms around her. She tucks herself into his embrace, the two of them gazing down at Mia.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not going to be happy living inside this gate for long,” Bellamy chides.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke huffs, “Oh, definitely not.”</p><p> </p><p>Mia’s already making another attempt to stand on her feet. This time, Bellamy and Clarke let her figure it out for herself. She’s a smart, determined girl. She’ll get it.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glances at Clarke, contemplating the words ruminating in his mind before they tumble from his mouth. “What do you say we take her out of the gate then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Out of the gate?” Clarke inquires with the quip of her brow. “As in, away from Arkadia?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Bellamy shrugs, a reassuring smile settling over his features. “Escape Arkadia for a bit, just be the three of us.” He peers into her eyes, watching as she melts into his. “We’ll do it together.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke breaks out into a grin, intertwining their fingers. “Together.”</p><p> </p><p>In front of them, Mia finds her footing in the snow. She stands to her feet, and before any of them can catch her, starts toddling towards the gate.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you'd like updates on my upcoming projects, or just want to chat, follow me on Twitter! My user is @virgohotspot.</p><p>Thank you for reading!:)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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